


An Diabhul tighearna

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-26
Updated: 2006-03-26
Packaged: 2019-02-02 18:36:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12732039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: Daniel and Jack plan a sightseeing, hiking and fishing vacation on the Scottish Island of Mull. Much adventure ensues.





	An Diabhul tighearna

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

Part 1

Daniel was exhausted. After a seven hour plane ride with stopovers to Edinburgh followed by an uncomfortable train trip to the western Scotland sea town of Oban, and then Jack insisting that he wanted to visit the Oban Distillery before it closed, well this was too much!

"Jack, can't we visit the distillery tomorrow? There are two ferry trips to Mull, and we can take the afternoon one. I'm bushed, especially since you wanted to er...update our membership in the mile high club on the plane, instead of letting me sleep!" Accusing blue eyes glared at the Colonel, then softened a bit. To be fair, Daniel hadn't exactly been beating Jack away with a stick on the plane. He smiled at the memory. /The mile high sex was pretty fun, though I'm sure that that priest in the opposite seat knew what we were doing the entire time and was probably figuring us for a quick trip to hell. Been there, done that./

"Come on, Danny," Jack whined, "I heard the place is really neat at night, you know, pipers on the pier, free Glenforsa whiskey tastes, folk dancers, free Glenforsa whiskey tastes..."

Jack was so excited that finally Daniel just had to capitulate. "Okay, we'll go there and get some late dinner and your whiskey. Then we come back here and go to bed. Promise me."

Jack leered, grabbing his wallet, travelers checks, and keys and stuffing them into his black leather jacket's inside breast pocket. "I'll come to bed with you anytime, Danny."

"Oh, how about now?" asked Daniel hopefully.

"No! After the distillery." Jack grinned back, taking his lover by the arm and propelling him towards the hotel room door.

Daniel sighed. "The honeymoon is definitely over when your lover wants whiskey more than you."

Jack pulled his archeologist into his arms and kissed him deeply. From the Little Colonel's instant awakening, Daniel could tell that the honeymoon had a little more life left in it.

"Mmmmm, sure you don't want to go to bed?"

Reluctantly, Jack pulled away from Daniel, straightening out his now full erection so that it lay a bit more comfortably. He had changed into his tight black jeans, and the bulge in the crotch caused Daniel to lick his lips.

/Shit, he knows what licking that lip does to me! AAAGGG! Down, Jack, you want to get down some of that forty year old whiskey, and you won't tonight if you give in and go down on Daniel now. God those pants are tight. He looks like he's poured into them. Be strong, you're a Colonel in the Air Force, O'Neill, and you've been waiting all your life for a taste of that whiskey where it's made./

"Jack?"

"Um, sorry, got carried away with the way you look, Danny. I'm going to have to beat the Scots off with a stick."

Daniel smiled, stroking Jack's 'roll' in his crotch lovingly. "Me? I want you walking behind me as long as you're like this, Jack, so I don't have to defend your honor. The ladies are going to go nuts if they see your, um, main attraction, in full display."

Jack helped Daniel into his snug leather jacket, a gift from Jack for his birthday. "Hey, I got other attractions, not just that!"

Daniel turned and kissed Jack lightly, then turned to open the door. Over his shoulder he added, "I would put the Little Colonel in the top five, at least. Let's go get your whiskey."

Watching the sleek muscles of Daniel's ass ripple as he walked, Jack just followed what had to be close to Daniel's main attraction. It was all he could do not to pinch or pat as they took the elevator down to the lobby.

As soon as they walked in the distillery dining area, which had a nice pub-like atmosphere, the two men were noticed. They decided to adhere to old habit and take adjacent seats at the bar instead of getting a table.

The moment their backsides hit the seats, apparently by some sort of unwritten Scottish law, they became fair game for being hit on.

The first two were some very foxy ladies. A blonde and a redhead walked up to the bar, sidled between Jack and Daniel, the blonde turned towards Jack and the redhead turned towards Daniel.

Jack was trying to sample his shot of forty-year-old whiskey, and he almost spit it out when his upper arm found itself rubbing against some impressive breast works.

"Hiya pal. Wid ye be interested in some company for a while?" The strong Glasgow accent made her hard to understand, but the breasts on his arm got the point across.

"That's real flattering, but I'm already with someone."

"Oh aye? who?"

"Him, you know, the one your friend is trying to hit on?"

Her overpainted mouth dropped open in surprise. "You mean, uh, you and him are..."

Jack nodded. "Yep."

Blondie pulled away angrily. "Shit, don' waste your time, Shannon. They're fucking fruits!"

Jack's face stilled, losing his amusement quickly. He growled at the woman, "Not fucking now, that'll be later. Besides, he's better looking than both of you are!"

"Up yours, Dad!" Both very drunk women stalked away, mortally insulted.

"Jack, did you have to say that?" sighed Daniel wearily. Jack had a nasty streak in him a mile wide when pushed too far.

"Hey, I was just tellin' the truth, Danny, you are better looking than them."

"Just drink your whiskey, and..." Daniel nodded to the plate of fish and chips being put in front of them, "eat so you don't get too drunk too quick."

Jack stared at the thick layer of brown batter coating the fish and prodded it with his fork unenthusiastically. He glanced up at Daniel an asked incredulously, "they fry the fish?" 

Daniel shrugged but any comment he might have made was interrupted when the bartender came over to them. 

"Sorry about that, gentlemen. Those two like their fun, and they can get really mean when they're thwarted." He was a handsome man with dark hair and bright blue eyes. "If you two lads are lookin' for some fun a little more up yer alley, I could recommend a couple of clubs." The blue eyes checked out Jack, and he licked his lips. "You two'd be really popular, I think."

Jack blushed at the guy's overt admiration. 

Daniel took another drink of his whiskey, then said, while casually draping his arm over Jack's shoulders, "Um, actually, we're in a committed relationship, and just want to relax and enjoy this good whiskey and our meal. Do you think we're going to have a problem doing that?"

The bartender grinned, getting a kick out of both Daniel's words and his obvious possessiveness of Jack. "You're Yanks, ain'cha? Listen, over here, if ye want to be left alone, ye go to the tables. If ye want to have fun, ye sit at the bar. I'll get the waitress to find ye a nice table, eh?" He eyed Jack up and down. "Don't blame you for wanting to keep this handsome gray fox all to yourself. I'd kill to do it, if he was mine."

"Actually, he's more likely to be the one doing the killing if he thinks someone is bothering me." Daniel pointed at Jack.

"Hey, don't talk about me like I'm not here. Show us to a table, so I can drink my whiskey and ogle my partner in peace, will ya?"

"Anything for you. Tell me - does someone do your hair that color? It's like it's glowing, or something."

"Aw, fer crying out loud! Daniel!"

Hearing in Jack's embarrassed voice a Colonel moving towards homicidal, Daniel turned and saw the waitress wave at them. He took his Colonel's arm possessively again, and said, "Here, sit down at that table, Jack, and I'll get you another whiskey. You'll be fine."

"Damnit, did that guy accuse me of dying my hair, Daniel?"

"He was complimenting you, Jack, that's all." Daniel reached out and stroked the silver strands he loved so much. "Your hair does suit you, and I like it too."

"You do?"

"Yes. It's probably seven on your top ten finest features list." Daniel said as he watched his lover eat.

Jack lowered his voice. "Oh, yeah? What's number one?"

"You want me to say your butt, or something like that. But your top best feature to me is your caring nature, Jack. That's what pulled me to you four years ago, and has kept me in love with you since, despite how you tried to push me away."

Jack took Daniel's hand. "For that, I will be forever thankful, Danny. You knew what I needed, even if I was too damn stubborn to admit it to myself. Love ya."

"Um, me too, Jack, always. Are you finished with your dinner?"

Jack had scraped the batter off his fish and found the soft white cod quite palatable after that. He had made a sizable dent in the meal so he grinned and pushed the plate away. "Yep. I just want to buy a couple of bottles of these babies," He pointed at the ubiquitous Glenforsa labeled bottles.

* * *

Part 2 - Mull Island 

The ferry ride would have been pleasant if the weather had cooperated. As it was, Jack and Daniel hovered under the rickety awning near the boathouse and Daniel shivered. 

"It's hard to believe it's the summer here, Jack. It feels colder than winter on Abydos."

Jack put his arms tighter around Daniel. "This is warm in the Hebrides Islands, Daniel. We're pretty far north at this point. Aren't you glad I packed extra warm clothes for you in my pack, since you refused to believe me when I told you what it would be like?"

Blue eyes, under moist eyelashes and foggy glasses, gave the Colonel a loving look. "You did? Now I know why I fell in love with you, Jack."

"Because I pack extra sweaters for you?" The older man smiled, wanting to kiss his lover badly. Daniel looked just so cute standing there shivering with those fogged up glasses. But reticence was too deeply ingrained in O'Neill for him to give in. Maybe once they were on the island. It would be nice to just be with Daniel somewhere, not worried about who might see.

When they finally boarded, Jack insisted that they take seats inside and not on deck. Daniel looked a little disappointed that he wouldn't get much of a view, but his throbbing head from the previous night's whiskey tasting, and his frozen bones made the choice for him. He pressed his face close to the large front portal and tried to see out. Jack spotted a vending machine and brought his lover a steaming cup of coffee, which earned him a bright smile. The ferry's huge engines chugged to life and the boat pulled steadily away from the pier.

Half an hour into the sea journey, Daniel had to make a break for the deck. The choppy waves tossed the ferry relentlessly and he was finding it increasingly hard to keep the contents of his stomach down. Jack followed him, grabbing their jackets from the seat and wrapping Daniel up as he leant against the rail looking the worse for wear.

"Guess we overdid it last night huh?" he murmured apologetically into his lover's ear. Daniel shifted uncomfortably and stared over the side at the billowing waves. Strangely, being able to watch the motion of the waves made him feel a little less sea-sick and the fresh and bracing air was going a long way to clearing his head. He smiled weakly back and leant his forehead against Jack's. They stood like that for several minutes, each content to share such a simple pleasure, until the steady blinking of a lighthouse caught their eye. 

Daniel pulled the guide book out of his back pocket and flicked the pages until he reached the correct entry.

"It's the Lady Rock. It marks the spot of a marital dispute." Daniel began reading from the guide and Jack actually found himself listening. "Legend has it that the unfortunate Lady Catherine MacLean was marooned there by her husband, the far from saintly Lachlan MacLean of Duart. The said Lachie, it would appear, had his own notions on marriage guidance, and reconciliation was not one of them. Her brother, the Earl of Argyll, invited Lachie, who was presumably reveling in his newly-acquired single status, to come to Inveraray Castle for a 'wee soiree' to mourn the passing of his wife. Upon his arrival, the would-be widower was greeted by his dearly departed, who had been rescued by some passing fishermen. Argyll sent Lady Catherine and her presumably chastened husband back to Mull, where they remained in an approximation of wedded bliss for some ten years until another relative of Lachie's ill-served spouse did him to death during a visit to Edinburgh."

"Nice lot." Jack commented dryly, while brushing an errant lock of hair out of his lovers face. He noted that Daniel's color was returning and decided that cold or no, they would just have to sit out the rest of the journey up here. Actually it wasn't so bad - everyone else was sensibly ensconced below decks where it was warm, leaving Jack and Daniel alone to cuddle up close. Jack smiled and pulled his lover in close. This was the life.

The ferry docked with a minimal amount of fuss, and Jack and Daniel took their bags in hand as they looked at the green verdant growth among the mist.

"God, this weather will be great for fishing!" Jack said excitedly, "I can't wait. We're supposed to be met by the guide the travel agency hired for us. He'll take us to the hotel, and anywhere else we want to go."

"Oh. I hope he has a heater in his car." Daniel looked around at some of the obviously vintage cars at the seaport, and felt his hope for a heater dwindle somewhat. 

Both men stared as an ancient Volkswagen bug farted around the ferry office and came to a wheezing stop in front of them. They stared even more at the enigma that unfolded himself out of the drivers seat. When he was completely extracted from the small space, a lank older man taller than Jack stood before them, looking the two men over with disapproval on his long face.

"Uh, hello, are you, uh, Mr. MacPherson?" Daniel asked the paragon diffidently.

"Aye, ye'll be sassenaches fae o'wer seas, nae doot ga'in by the accent. Mos' like y'on kittles be cause nau boot a stramash herein and weel, a'body ha nae fulaingan wi' yer cluigagh'ian ways! ..." 

Jack gaped at the man, hoping that he might repeat the sentence in English. Their guide stared coldly back at him. Finally Jack dragged his eyes away and fixed then instead on his shivering lover.

"What did he say?"

"How the hell should I know?"

"Well you are the linguist, Daniel Twenty-three languages, remember?"

I'm afraid that Scots mixed with Gaelic and an obscure Mull Island dialect isn't one of the 23 languages I speak. It doesn't sound like he likes us much, though, does it?"

"We're paying him enough, he better damn well at least pretend he likes us." O'Neill's brown eyes narrowed. "Speak English, if you're MacPherson. We hired you as a guide, and you better damn well be able to guide."

Cold gray eyes the color of the day they stood in looked into killer cold brown eyes for a bit. Finally the grizzled old head nodded. "Aye, I speaks yer heathen tongue. Put yer own bags in the boot, and I'll take ye to the castle." Jack glanced at Daniel and mouthed the word 'boot?' Daniel mouthed back 'trunk'. Their guide's eyes got a little warmer as MacPherson glanced at the very chilled Daniel. "Yon laddie looks like he could use a fire an' some ouiske, eh."

Daniel smiled wanly and slightly apologetically. "I am rather chilled. I'm used to a lot warmer climate."

After a good glare at O'Neill, as though it was *his* fault that it was cold and rainy in a place that was almost always cold and rainy, the Scotsman said, "Aye, we'll get ye to someplace warm naught, laddie. Get on in the car, now and put on yon warm babhstair." MacPherson took Daniel's bag and put it into the trunk, yet made Jack put his own in.

"Um, babhstair, that's um, Gaelic for topping?" Daniel asked, then cleared his throat piteously. 

"Ach, neh, t'is a blanket, the one in the back seat. Do'st ye speak the Gaelic, laddie? Ye do'st not look Scottish."

"Only one of the ancient versions, that originally came from Gaul, which is now France." Daniel smiled. "I'm afraid it isn't much help here, though." He then spoke some hesitant words that sounded like screeching to Jack.

"Ye do'st na do too badly, for a Yank."

/How in the hell does Daniel do it? That old rascal's eating out of his hand after only two minutes with the baby blues and the golden tongue. Hell, I was eating out of his hand after only a few minutes of knowing him, too. It must be pheromones, or something./

Of course Jack was shoved in the back seat, his poor achy knees practically on each side of his face because of being so scrunched up. Daniel not only got to ride in front, he actually got a blanket to cover him!

The ride up to the castle was pretty rugged, and mostly uphill. They didn't get to see much because of the rain, although they did catch the occasional glimpse of an imposing black cliff face rising out of the hillside with a daunting fortress-like building perched perilously close to its edge. Daniel rubbed at the steamed up window and squinted up at the castle. 

"They say that Duart Castle takes its name from the crag it stands on, the Dubh Ard, or Black Height. Originally built in the 13th century, it was garrisoned by redcoats - government troops during the 1745 rebellion, and fell into dereliction. It was later bought back by the 25th chief, who restored it as a family home. It now houses an exhibition devoted to the history of Scouting, and displays of clan and family memorabilia." 

Jack wondered if his friend had memorized the whole guide book before he got off the plane. Surprisingly, the Beatle made it to the summit and chugged to a wheezing stop outside the castle's impressive entrance.

Daniel helpfully had to manhandle Jack to get him out of his now extremely uncomfortable position in the bug. As soon as the Colonel got out he turned on their driver and growled, "You will drive something that I can fit in next time, or I'll shoot you. Do you hear me?"

Daniel, ever the diplomat, turned to MacPherson. "Mr. MacPherson, forgive Colonel O'Neill's manners, but he has bad knees from when he was a hero in the war, and sitting cramped like he was in this rain really makes them hurt. Can you get something bigger for us next time?"

A grin peeped out of the old Scotsman, and he said, "Aye, I'll bring the Landrover for your outings, laddy. And ye call me Andrew, ye hear?"

Daniel smiled. "Thank you, Andrew. I'm Daniel, and this is Jack." He pointed at Jack.

"That's Colonel to you!"

"Jack, be good."

"Oh, all right, if he brings the Landrover next time." Jack grumbled, pulling his bag and his fishing stuff (which also had his permitted gun and holster in it) out of the trunk.

Their first close look at the castle caused two different reactions. Daniel was fascinated by the thirteenth century and later architecture. Jack thought it looked like a great prop for a ghost story.

/I bet it's drafty as hell, and my knees are gonna kill me, I just know it!/ 

"Oh, Jack," Daniel breathed, taking his lover's hand. "It's wonderful! Thank you for thinking of staying here. I love it!"

/Well, sore knees are worth it, to put that damn shine back in the kid's eyes. He's had a rough time of it, with Shau'ree and Shifu and all of it./

"Glad you like it, Danny."

Bright blue eyes blazed with love. "I like you even better, Colonel O'Neill."

With that look bathing him, all of a sudden Jack's knees didn't hurt a bit, and he felt like he was about twenty years old. Trust Danny to be able to turn back the hands of time by just a look. 

"Rightbackatcha, Danny. Come on, let's go see what's on the inside of this pile of stone."

They had to walk up a flight of worn stone stairs, but when they got to the top and stood before the heavy wooden doors, both men turned to look at the view. Even in the rain, it was breathtaking. The castle was originally built inland but still on a jutting promontory overlooking the sea. Over the centuries the land had eroded, and now the Castle was only about twenty feet from the cliffs. The door opened behind them, and a shortish man stepped when he noticed them standing there.

"You must be my two newest guests, Colonel O'Neill and Dr. Jackson! Please, don't stand out here in the rain. Be welcome to Duart Castle. I am Lachlan Dubh Lubanach, the Laird here."

"I'm Daniel, and this is Jack. I just love..."

Jack tuned Daniel out as he started lecturing, as they both followed their host inside. Lubanach, or whatever his name was, was not what Jack had pictured the 28th Chief of the MacLean clan to be. The Colonel had expected a bearded pirate type dressed in a skirt, or a kilt, or whatever. The truth was a rather short man, about five foot eight or so, with a black ponytail and a rounded, handsome face with the notable absence of any kind of chin. Vivid blue eyes contrasted with the swarthy skin and the black hair, and Jack realized that here was one of the "Black Celts or Black Irish" his mother used to go on about. Since the original Scottish Celts were from Ireland, he supposed the phrase was okay with regards to this Scotsman.

/I don't like the way that guy is smiling at Daniel. Hell, Jack, admit it, you don't like it when anyone smiles at Daniel. The fact that here is a living, breathing version of Scottish history won't mean that Daniel will look back, or anything. Danny's right, you are one jealous son of a bitch./ Jack smiled as he watched Daniel's fine and very damp butt walk up the stairs in front of him. 

/Shit, I'm going to hide him here in our rooms until the end of this damn vacation, if he's going to look all wet around the edges like that. He's so hot, he could be smoking. And he's so fucking clueless about it, he'd attract a shark in the water and think it was a dolphin and try to make friends with it./ 

"... Um, Jack, did you hear me?" 

Tearing his eyes from Danny's rump, Jack moved his gaze up to now irritated blue eyes. "Uh, sure, weren't you just talking about the structure of the walls being from the early thirteenth century?" /Thank god for that book on castles I read up on before we got here. That conversation had to come up somewhere while he was talking./

Daniel's eyes softened. "Yes! That's exactly what we were discussing, Jack. Sir Lachlan has offered to give us a private tour of even the empty parts of the castle! Isn't that great?"

Brown eyes narrowing as though beading a certain Laird in their sites to shoot him, Jack caught their host's eyes. His body language couldn't have shouted "MINE! TOUCH AND YOU DIE! THINK OF TOUCHING, AND YOU DIE!" any louder if he had been dressed in his greens with a P-90 in his hands.

Their host's blue eyes just returned the stare without expression. 

/This guy has the gaze of a snake. Cold./

"Here is your suite of rooms, gentlemen. I trust you will find everything satisfactory. Your bags will be brought up very soon."

"I'm sure we will, Sir Lachlan, thank you. Jack, are you coming?" Daniel narrowed his eyes at his lover, not liking the stare O'Neill was giving their host.

"Oh, sure. Nice place you have here, Lachie. It's cool."

Jack O'Neill proceeded to close the door in their host's face.

* * *

Part 3

Daniel turned to his lover with his hands on his hips. "Jack that was rude! I just can't take you anywhere, can I?"

"Hey, I'm Air Force Special Forces. We're supposed to be rude. Besides, I didn't like the way he was looking at you, Daniel. Couldn't get enough of you, actually."

Daniel sighed. "He was not looking at me that way, Jack, and even if he was, I love you, and I'm not going to switch off, okay? I'll never understand why you're so damned jealous all the time!"

"Because you never see these creeps ogle you, Daniel. That's what you have me here for. You get to think everyone except Goa'uld are great, and I beat them off you if it turns up that they aren't."

"I got through thirty-one years without your help, O'Neill, and managed just fine. I really wish you wouldn't see me as some kind of incompetent booby or child, or something like that. I'm not, you know."

"I don't see you as a child, Daniel. I see you as a brilliant, hot, sexy man who tends to be a little absentminded when he's using that fabulous brain. Admit it, you are!"

Narrowed blues finally relaxed, and Daniel's full lips quivered, fighting off a smile. "Okay, I'll admit it, sometimes I am, a little, um preoccupied. But I'm not an innocent waif, Colonel, and I can beat off advances along with the best of them. I've certainly had enough experience since I started working with the military."

Now it was brown eyes that narrowed. "Who? Who is it that gave you more experience, Danny? I'll send them to Antarctica! You're a civilian under military protection, my military protection! No one should be harassing you."

/Oh, oh, Warning Will Robinson, Warning! Colonel quickly moving into dangerous jealousy rage, Warning Will Robinson!/

"Jack, not harassment, just, um, interest. I mean, you're always hovering like an avenging angel over me, no one would persist in bothering me if I said no. Mostly I just pretend I'm oblivious. That usually works."

"It didn't with me."

"No, I practically threw myself at you, and you just got hornier, which made you get even more pissy than normal. Hell, when it came to you, O'Neill, you were the one who was clueless, until that Ashrak assassin at the conference. Then, thank god, you finally woke up and realized something was up. Of course, I had to be latched over you like an octopus and rubbing my dick against your leg and my leg against yours in my sleep for you to finally clue in. Took you long enough."

"I'll take you right now, Dr. Jackson!" Jack growled, pulling his lover to him tightly, as usual burying his nose in Danny's neck. He just loved to smell his lover, hell, even when Danny was sweaty after working out or running for the gate from a million jaffa. Kinky? Probably. But he didn't care, he still liked Danny's smell. 

Into his lover's neck Jack mumbled, "Look, I'm sorry I get so jealous, Daniel. I know you won't leave me for someone else. At least my mind knows. My stubborn subconscious will never truly believe someone like you would want my dumb, grumpy, and saggy old butt, when you can have any damned butt you want."

Daniel moved his hands down and over Jack's butt cheeks fondly. /MINE!/ "Jack, you are the only person in my entire life who knows me inside and out, and still wants me. You're also not going to leave me without a good fight, of which you are immanently capable of fighting successfully. After being left so many times in my life, do you know how much that means to me?"

"Kid, not one of those people, except Sarah and that asshole Nick, would have left you if they had had a choice. Not your parents, they loved your little genius butt, guy, more than anyone in all the world, I'm sure. Certainly not Shau'ree, I saw that smackeroo she gave you when we came through the second time, Danny. It made me almost lose control, though I was too dumb to realize that it was me I wanted kissing your face like that, even then. Nick was a selfish bastard, he had to be if he preferred giant aliens to his little grand-Danny. Well, I'm a selfish bastard, too, Daniel. I'm going to show you just how lovable you really are, if it kills me and anyone who tries to get in my way of doing it, snake or no snake. You hear me?"

"Yes, Jack, I hear you." Daniel took one of Jack's hands from his face and kissed it. "I hear you, and I love you. Let's take a nap before we have to get ready for dinner."

"Nap, Danny?"

The younger man grinned. "Well, maybe not right away."

"Yesssss! Afternoon nookie is always the best!"

Laughing at his love's enthusiasm, Daniel started leading Jack to the huge canopied bed, both of them dropping clothes like apple seeds behind them. 

"Damn, look at that thing! It looks as big as a yacht! Hell, we can fuck, and not have to sleep in wet spots!"

"That, my ignorant and sexy Colonel, is a sixteenth century canopied bed made in the Elizabethan style. I'll have to take my allergy pills, if it's a mattress stuffed with goose feathers. JACK, NO!"

This last shout was to stop the Colonel from jumping gleefully on the bed like some kind of manic forty-six year old child.

/God, he'll break that thing, and it's probably worth his salary for a year or more./

"Jack, you'll break it! Show it some respect, it's a valuable antique."

The naked Jack modified his jump mid-flight to a lower trajectory, and after he landed, he patted the soft bed, and his now hardening erection with the other hand. "So is this. And this valuable antique wants you in bed with it, Danny, so how about speeding things up so we can make love before I turn ninety?"

Daniel, moving into alpha male mode, finished chucking his clothes and climbed onto the bed, moving immediately on top of Jack. "I'm top, where's the lube?"

The ever-prepared Colonel pulled the lubricant out of the pocket of his jacket, that he'd flung onto the edge of the bed in his enthusiasm. "Got it right here."

Daniel laughed at his lover's enthusiasm. "Slut!" 

"Only for you, Danny, only for you. Yesss, Danny, harder!"

KNOCK. KNOCK.

"Fuck! Ignore it, Danny, yesss, just like that!"

"Jack, it's probably our luggage. We're going to be needing it. Just hold that thought..." Daniel pulled reluctantly out of Jack's warm backside, grabbed his pants, and slipped them on while going to answer the door.

"Be careful, guy, don't catch anything important in that zipper."

"Shh! You don't need to cover up, I won't let whoever it is inside. Stay like that!"

"You're wish is my command, Daniel."

Daniel made short work of the man who brought up the luggage, paid him a big tip, and closed the door practically in his face.

"Doctor Jackson, I can't take you anywhere! You were rude to that guy."

Leaving the luggage by the door, Daniel hurried back to see his Colonel sprawled on his back on the bed. He had his legs spread wide, his hand lazily stroking up and down his erection, and a mischievous look in his eyes.

"Don't you dare finish without me, O'Neill!"

Daniel jumped on the bed, mentally begging forgiveness from the antique as he swooped onto his lover. In a quick hand-off, he grabbed the discarded lube tube, opened it and slicked himself up again, moved between Jack's legs, slipped the one with the healthier knee over his right shoulder, and he entered his lover again. Quick and to the point, his first thrust went deep and moved against Jack's sweet spot, causing a moan and a shiver to cascade through the older man. Daniel continually thrust deep into the tight wetness that was Jack, hitting his prostate over and over again. His belly rubbed his lover's dick, and within minutes he felt Jack tightening up as he climaxed. The muscles clamped over Daniel, and he bit down into Jack's chest in order not to scream as he followed his lover into ecstasy.

"God, I think you finally gave me a heart attack, Danny." Jack moaned as a spent Daniel withdrew from him.

"Here, let me get the wipes to clean up." Daniel got up shakily and went over to bring his suitcase to the bed. He opened it and grabbed a box, opening the plastic lid and handing the whole thing to Jack.

"Here, wipe yourself off so you don't drip and make too much of a mess. Hand me two as well. We can shower before we go to dinner."

Jack peered at the box. "Baby wipes, Daniel?" The Air Force Colonel pulled two of the things out of the tight opening and sniffed suspiciously. "They smell like baby powder! We can't use these."

"Shut up and use them, Jack, they'll cut down on the chafing and any tearing. They're medicated!"

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not. I did some research, and found out that these are the best things to minimize minor injuries from, um, rough penetrations."

Jack grinned, handing Daniel two of the things, and giving in finally by wiping his butt and belly firmly with the two wipes. "Hey, it is taking the soreness away! But damn it, Danny, I won't get caught dead with this smell on me anywhere near the SGC showers or the SGC Marines. Makepeace would never let me hear the end of it if I smell like a fucking baby!"

"I'll deal with Robert Makepeace if he teases you, Jack. Don't worry. Your skin just isn't as pliable as mine, and it has a tendency to tear more."

Jack felt a stirring in his dick again at Daniel's alpha words. /No way, there's no more snap in the old snake after that last ride. God he's hot when he threatens like that, though!/

"You'll deal with *Robert* Makepeace? Daniel, I hate to tell you this, but even I would be hard pressed to deal with that nut. He'd eat you for dinner."

Daniel fell down beside his lover. "Jack, I'm not talking about fighting him, for crying out loud!" He moved over and snuggled into Jack's neck. "There are other ways to persuade people than violence, you know."

"What other ways?"

"Well, since he's interested in me, I'd just ask him not to bother you. I think he'd do that for me, don't you?"

Jack shot up in bed, glaring down at Daniel. "Makepeace is interested in you Daniel? How do you know that?" Jack knew of Makepeace's interest, but he had no idea Daniel even had a clue.

"Elementary, my dear Jack. He's asked me out. Several times, actually."

"He... asked... ON A DATE?"

Daniel sat up. "Yes. He was fine when I said no."

Jack sat up and faced his love. "Daniel, people like Makepeace are predators. They never take no for an answer when they want something. They just figure out another way to get it when the first way fails. Probably the only reason he hasn't tried it yet is because of me and George."

"Oh, you mean like I had to figure out another way to get you, Jack? Does that make me a predator?"

Jack only growled, deciding to kill Makepeace when he got back to the SGC. 

"Jack, let's get under the covers, I'm cold!"

Calculating all the different ways he would ambush Makepeace, Jack merely complied, moving under the cover and taking his snuggly lover into his arms automatically as he tactically assessed his chances to take out the head Marine at the SGC.

Daniel leaned closer and kissed Jack's neck. "I love you, Colonel-mine."

"Love ya too, kid." O'Neill responded absentmindedly, his mind figuring the odds of having Teal'c successfully break Makepeace's neck in a basketball game by "accident". He'd just have to mention to the big guy that Makepeace had the nerve to push himself on Teal'c's favorite Tau'ri, and "Robert" would be toast. 

/Jack took my comment about Makepeace better than I expected. Maybe he truly is mellowing in his jealousy./ Happy at that na•¦´ thought, Daniel slipped into slumber with his lover's heartbeat strong next to his ear.

Dinner was set in a huge, drafty dining hall on long oak tables and benches. When a much refreshed Daniel and Jack came down, the archeologist smiled happily.

"Look, Jack, he's set up dinner in mock middle ages style! This is the way they used to eat when these castles were really fortified military outposts. Look, meat pies, bannocks, and wow, is that a suckling pig there in the middle of the table?"

O'Neill eyed the pathetic piglet, stuffed with an apple in its mouth, cautiously.

"If that thing turns to look at me, I'm outta here, Daniel."

Their host was waving through the pigging-out throng to get their attention. Jack wasn't about to let him ogle Daniel any more that he'd already done, so he tapped a man in front of him on the bench and asked him, "Hey, can the two of us scoot in here?"

The vision that turned to look up at the Colonel, then over at Daniel, where his eyes seem to stick, was an extraordinarily good-looking man. Sea blue eyes over a rugged face with a lot of character in it checked Danny out politely, but Jack was sure he saw the shine of interest in those eyes as the man moved over to make room.

"Of course, there's plenty of room. This table and the benches originally came from a Norse Nobleman's longhouse, and were originally designed to seat at least eighty people."

Daniel, Jack apparently forgotten behind him, answered, "I thought it had a Viking look to the carving, and the message in the runes gave it away. Our host must have decided that because the MacLeans have Norse ancestors as well as Celtic, he could get away with it."

Jack watched as Daniel stroked the antique table lovingly. "It's a real beauty. I wonder he's not worried that it will be damaged."

The admiration in the stranger's voice was obvious as he eyed the table. "These things were carved from a single huge tree trunk, and there isn't much that could harm it. But if you look closely, you'll see he's put an unobtrusive polyacrylic varnish on it to protect it." The man, not so young seen up close, put his hand out to Daniel, who sat next to him. His face, which Jack at first thought was pockmarked with old acne, showed up close to be the light remains of a notable scar. It only made the man look rakish and even more rugged. "I'm Iain Murray, the Earl of Mansfield, at your service, but please call me Iain."

/Shit! A fucking gorgeous Earl, a guy who likes history, one who's triggering my gaydar like mad, and of course, likes Daniel! O'Neill, talk about getting the lamb away from the wolf and handing him over to the lion! At least the other guy's ugly. Shit./

Daniel was obviously charmed at the heavy, though cultured-sounding, middle Scottish accent. "I'm Dr. Daniel Jackson, Iain, and this is my friend and colleague, Colonel Jack O'Neill. Are you a historian, by any chance?"

It was odd to see such a rugged face blush. "Actually, just an amateur one, mainly of Norse and Celtic histories. In real life, I'm afraid, I'm in the service of her Majesty, just a dull government bureaucrat. But I gather from the way you read those runes, that you are a historian, Daniel?"

/That's Dr. Jackson to you, asshole!/

"Actually, I have PhDs in Archeology, Archeological Linguistics, and Anthropology. The Linguistics degree is from Oxford."

/Shit, Danny's bragging, here! Danny never brags! He's an arrogant SOB sometimes, but he never brags. Shit. Is he trying to impress this guy?/

The sea-blue eyes widened. "Why, you're quite the paragon, aren't you? You don't look near old enough to have all those degrees." Iain turned politely to Jack. "Surely he's pulling my leg, Colonel? He looks like a graduate student."

Jack took a deep drink from his tankard of ale, swallowed, and finally answered. "Nope. He got the first degree when he was twenty. Hey, Daniel, can you hand me some of that pie there?"

"Oh, sure Jack. Do you want some of this goose?"

"Yeah, but I'll pass on the pig."

"Suckling pig is a traditional Norse and Hebrides treat, Colonel. Surely a long-time military officer like you isn't squeamish of such things?"

Ocean-colored eyes met brown ones in challenge, though the Earl still had a pleasant look on his face.

/Government bureaucrat my ass! This guy's military, or I'll eat that fucking pig! Long-time, hmpf./

"I'm US Air Force, for the last sixteen years. That pig reminds me too much of some of the things I've dealt with in the field. So yeah, I guess you could say I'm squeamish."Daniel, trying to ease the tension in his beloved, reached for a dish of what looked like turnips. "Jack, here's a traditional Highland dish, boiled turnips in butter with thyme and tarragon. Let's try these, and some of this pickled herring. That's a specialty here on Mull and the other Hebrides Islands."

Patting Daniel's leg under the table, Jack smiled, deciding to be nice. Danny was his. Period. "Okay, I'll try both of them. Do you think they'll have desert?"

His archeologist smiled at him. "I expect you could probably cadge some fruit pie, or something like that, if you're nice to the cook, Jack." He turned to Sir Iain. "Jack has all the commissary staff back home wrapped around his little finger. They change the menu if he doesn't like what's on it."

His mouth slightly full, Jack swallowed then added, "Actually, it's Daniel who has them all in love with him. I just know how to capitalize on the situation." Jack glanced over at the Earl with a pointed look. "But I *can* be nice if it gets me what I want, Daniel. You know that."

Of course, that was Special Ops Colonel-speak for "Touch him and you die. Think about touching him, and you die." Fortunately for Jack, it was the one language that Daniel had never been fluent in. Jack could see from his expression that the Earl spoke it, and understood the message completely.

"Ah, well, Colonel, being nice is always the best way to get a man what he wants."

/Aha! Military-speak for "you and what army, asshole?" Forget it *Sir* asshole, you are way out of your league here. Even if you could get by me, which you can't, you'd have to get through to Daniel, and he's stubborn enough to kick both our military butts with just one pissy flash of those baby blues./

* * *

Part 4 

When they were almost finished with their meals, Lachlan got up and rang a bell to get the group's attention.

"All, we have a wonderful program scheduled tonight in the lower ballroom. A band of minstrels will play traditional Gaelic music for us! The presentation starts at ten o'clock, so I hope you will all be there."

That was the guests' cue to get up and return to their rooms. Jack leaned over and whispered in Daniel's ear, "That gives us two hours. What d'ya want to do until then?"

Daniel turned and whispered back, "I know what *you* obviously want to do, Jack. I thought you had a heart attack earlier."

A Groucho Marx imitation with raising eyebrows was Jack's only response. 

Before he could say anything, Sir Lachlan's voice said from behind them, "Dr. Jackson, Colonel O'Neill, I'm sorry I missed you at dinner." A veiled glare at Jack told the Colonel that Lachie knew just why he missed them at dinner. "Might you take this time to let me show you my personal section of Duart Castle?" He turned after that and said, "Sir Iain, you are of course invited as well, though you've been there before."

Jack had opened his mouth to turn the guy down when he heard Daniel say, "We would love to see your personal suite, Sir Lachlan. I've read about how meticulously you've restored it, and I was hoping I'd get to see it." Daniel just looked at Jack, then kicked his lover under the table. /This is my vacation too, Jack so just shut up and put up with it, and I'll put up with the fishing./

Jack got the message, not from the kick so much as in the lowering of long lashes over Daniel's blue eyes. "Oh, ah, yes, Daniel's talked about seeing this a lot. Thank you, Sir Lachlan."

Sir Iain gave his agreement to come, making sure Jack got a good look at laughing ocean-filled eyes to let O'Neill know that he had seen that spineless capitulation when Daniel just looked at Jack that way.

Their host was bogarting Daniel's attention, leaving Jack and Iain to follow behind them.

"You're pretty spineless for a Colonel, letting Lachlan snag your boy right out from under your nose, O'Neill. He likes them pretty and bright like that." Iain whispered to Jack while still maintaining a pleasant smile on his handsome face.

Jack wasn't going to play the usual alpha games with this guy, not with Danny as the prize. "I don't give a fuck what you think, *Sir* Iain. My spine has nothing to do with it. What Daniel wants on this vacation, he gets, it's as simple as that. Not that it's any of your business, Murray, but the last six months have been tough on him, and I planned this trip to let him just relax and enjoy himself."

Iain looked at Jack in surprise that he would give up on the usual games so quickly. Finally he said quietly back, "You really love him, don't you?"

Jack shrugged, embarrassed, but he didn't turn down the quiet challenge. "I'd be dead inside if it wasn't for him."

"Yes, I can see how he'd have that effect on someone." The Earl grinned, getting back into the fun of it. "Well, this just makes me even more intrigued, Colonel. You'd better watch your prize, or a Scotsman might just decide to make off with him, like our ancestors of old used to do."

O'Neill bared his teeth at Murray. "Your ancestors came from Ireland, jerk, where my roots go way deep, and we micks taught you macs the whole frigging game, blarney stone, cattle stealing, women stealing, and all! You don't stand a chance against an Irishman with US Special Ops training."

"Hah! I knew you were special ops, O'Neill! I can tell your type a mile away." Iain looked Jack up and down in a very sexual fashion and purred, "I bet you even went commando tonight, didn't you, to impress your lover?" 

The blatant invitation to flirt was too much for Jack. This Earl was sexy as hell, and he damn well knew it and flaunted it. In his best husky drive-Daniel-wild alpha voice, he shot back, "Wouldn't you just love to know, Sir Iain. But remember, loose lips sink ships, among other things." Surprisingly, Jack felt himself start to harden at the alpha banter he was engaging in with this Scotsman. It had been a while since he'd had an opponent this good, other than Daniel, of course. 

A lick of sensuous lips and a deep barrel of a laugh were Jack's rewards for his teasing, along with a smile from Danny up front with Lachlan, who was glad Jack was getting along so well with their new friend.

/Thank God Danny doesn't understand commando speak! He would not approve. He complains about me, but he can be a jealous bastard when he wants to be./

Lachlan spent most of the two hours discussing his ancient treasures with Daniel, but not before setting Jack and Iain up with some really good whiskey and billiard cues so they could play a few games as a good host should.

With about twenty minutes to go before the entertainment started, Daniel came up to Jack and Iain with Lachlan following. "Jack, Lachlan's offered to show us around the castle tomorrow. And we're invited to his clan gathering this Saturday as well. Everyone will be wearing traditional highland dress!"

"We're going fishing tomorrow, Daniel, remember?"

Without even blinking, his love changed gears. "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot for a minute about that." Daniel turned back to Lachlan. "Could we take a rain check on the tour until the day after tomorrow, Sir Lachlan? We're dying to see the castle, but Jack and I did set up fishing tomorrow with Mr. MacPherson."

"Oh, of course, Daniel, but don't forget, you'll need to get to the kilt shop tomorrow as well, or they'll never be able to get your orders done in time. I'll give them a call tomorrow morning and let them know your coming at, say, three o'clock?"

Daniel looked at Jack.

/Kilt shop? Wear a skirt? Shit. How does he talk me into this stuff without even talking?/ The Colonel shrugged. "Fine, we'll fish until about two, then go into town to the, urh, the kilt shop if that's what you want to do, Daniel."

Danny's blue eyes caressed his lover, his happiness at being spoiled like this by Jack making him glow in that special way he had. Jack smiled back, wanting to touch really badly right then. /MINE!/ But he knew that him acting possessive was not what Daniel needed right now. Later, maybe. Now Daniel just wanted to have fun doing all the weird things he loved to do, like dressing in skirts. Hell, Jack could do fun with the best of them, even skirts, if it made Danny smile like that.

As Daniel turned to say something to Lachlan, Jack heard a whispered breath from way too close behind him, laughter running through it. "Wuss!"

"Yep, and you're just jealous." He muttered back, stepping forward a bit to get some distance between him and Iain before he embarrassed himself.

The next morning, Jack was playing with his food again. In true Highland tradition, they had been served with two steaming bowls of Porridge Oats for breakfast, the hot creamy gloop so thick that the spoons almost stood up by themselves in it. Daniel had sprinkled a little salt on his, as was customary but Jack had insisted on sugaring his to give it some taste. Daniel shook his head in exasperation and went back to eating. 

On the table before them, Jack had spread a map of the island and a marked off the best fishing areas. There was a leaflet from the Tobermory Angling Association, which cited a shop on the main street as the only place where tackle and bait could be hired, and boats chartered if necessary. After their rather choppy crossing of the previous evening, Jack had decided to opt for Bank fishing but it would require the services of their reluctant guide to take them up to Aros Loch. He decided to let Daniel have the pleasure of making the request.

The housekeeper appeared just as Jack was scraping his bowl clean, and placed a large hamper of food on the table.

"Likely ye'll nae be hame fer luncheon. I packed a flask o'coffee and there's a holf bottle in there too."

"A hof bottle ...?" Jack enquired.

"Whiskey o'course," she huffed, scooping up their empty plates. "Oh aye - and yer guide is ootside in a big muckle cor. He said te tell ye that he's got the heater on for ye." With that, she flounced out of the dining room. Daniel shrugged and began pulling on his thickest sweater.

"Don't look at me, I only get about one word it five!"

The Aros Loch was stunning. Jack had always thought that the lakes around Minnesota, especially the one on whose shores his cabin sat, were the most beautiful places in the universe. Aros gave even his lake a run for its money. Now that the rain had abated, and the watery sun peeked out from behind the ever-present gray clouds, the breathtaking Scottish scenery finally got a chance to show itself.

The lock sparkled in the sunlight, as clear and still as glass, reflecting the purple heather-festooned hills and the dark green pine forests that edged its banks. Andrew pulled the rover up onto the gravel parking lot and jumped down, mumbling something about stupid Yanks and their early morning habits. Daniel glanced at his watch and frowned. It was nearly 8am - at the SGC he would have been on duty for almost two hours by now, so it was hardly early. 

Moments later, the gear was unloaded and Andrew was climbing back into the rover. He wound down the window and glowered at his charges.

"Whit time will ye be wantin' me back?"

"Oh I'd say no later than 2 o'clock. We have an appointment with the Kilt shop at three."

Yeah, and there's a bag limit of 5 here."

Daniel cocked his head enquiringly.

"Each person is allowed to take home only 5 fish. Even as a novice, you should manage that pretty fast. The lock looks like it's teeming with trout."

Andrew snorted and shook his head disapprovingly.

"Laddie - a lock is somethin' ye shove a key in. Aros is a loch. Ye have tae soften the c-h."

Jack lifted his tackle and turned away muttering under his breath, "you say pot-a-toe and I say pot-ay-toe..."

Daniel chipped in merrily with, "you say tomato and I say tom-ay-toe"

Andrew started the engine and leaned out of the window he shouted, "Lets call the whole thing aff!" he grinned as he drove away. Daniel waved enthusiastically at the retreating bumper and turned to find Jack staring at him strangely.

"What?"

"I finally got you to come fishing."

Daniel picked up the portable shelter and began to unroll it. 

"You fish Jack, I lie back and read my book."

Daniel watched Jack surreptitiously from behind his book. The man amazed him. Here they were on the shores of one of the most beautiful lochs in Scotland, the sun was shining brightly and they were on vacation, and yet Jack was a blur of motion. It occurred to Daniel that he had never seen his lover stay still, not even when sleeping. He was always restless, on the prowl, filled with nervous energy. No wonder he was always ready to leap in to bed with Daniel. Unsure how he felt about being a channel for excess energy release, the archaeologist shifted onto his stomach on the warm tartan blanket and groped around in the basket for an apple.

Jack glanced at him over his bare shoulder and smiled their secret smile. Daniel pretended not to notice and bit into the rosy apple with relish. Jack was knee deep in the sparkling water. When they had arrived, Jack had been wearing his favorite skin-tight denim jeans and a thick sweater, but as the day warmed up, he had discarded the sweater and pulled on a pair of dark green rubber hip-waders. The top of the waders stopped just at his crotch, held up by loops that attached to his belt, so that when he waded out to stand in the river, his denim-clad ass was still visible to Daniel's avid gaze. Yes the view here at Loch Aros was breathtaking! The lake wasn't so bad, either.

Jack was using a using a 6-wt. rod, a floating line, and a long leader and tippet and nymph flies. Not that Daniel would have recognized a Nymph fly if it bit him on the ass but he had listened politely to Jack's fishing strategy as his lover expounded the merits of barbless hooks for quick release. This part he had actually understood. Jack intended to release most of his catch back into the water. This had surprised Daniel a bit at first. Jack seemed like the typical competitive hunter-gatherer type male, but the softer side of his personality should not have come as a surprise. But Daniel knew that Jack, after seeing so much violence in his career, really wasn't into the butchering side of fishing and hunting. He was way too soft-hearted for that now. As long as it wasn't Goa'uld he was hunting, that is. 

Daniel sighed and let his book drop neglected onto the rug as he watched the muscles in Jack's torso ripple with the motion of his arms. He threw out the nylon line with an accompanying zzzzzzzip noise and the line shot out across the still waters. It was very relaxing lying by the lakeside watching his lover fish, but time was marching on and they hadn't even eaten lunch yet. He cleared his throat pointedly just as Jack got his first nibble. The line went taut and began to play out, the reel spinning wildly. Jack whooped in delight and began reeling in his catch. 

Daniel leapt to his feet and scrambled around in the gear until he found the large net for landing the trout, quite caught up in his lover's excitement. Jack fought the fish, letting it run then reeling it back in, then finally deciding that he could safely bring it to shore, he began frantically reeling in. Daniel encouraged him from the shoreline

"That's it Jack - land that sucker!"

When the fish broke surface, Jack gasped and took several quick steps towards the shore. The fish was much bigger than he had expected. Daniel hauled off his socks and shoes and stepped gingerly into the cold water to help. 

"Jesus - it's big! Must be over 30 inches. I swear it weighs more than 10 pounds!" Jack gasped as he continued to reel in his prize. Finally they got the fish into the landing net and Jack gently extricated the hook. Daniel was amazed at the iridescence of the fish scales and impressed with the size of the monster. Jack grinned from ear to ear and told Daniel to run and get the camera. Daniel managed to set the picture up so that the shot captured most of Jack's naked skin, only remembering to get the fish in at the last minute, before the Colonel released his prize back into the water.

"Well I'm surprised Jack! I really thought you'd want to bring that one back and gloat about it."

Jack splashed back to the bank and shook wet hands at Daniel.

"As I keep saying - it's not about the fish per sae - it's the act of fishing that turns me on"

"Oh?"

"And the rubber boots."

He came to a halt in front of Daniel who immediately got with the program and hooked his fingers into the loops holding up Jack's waders. The feel of the wet rubber set little shivers down his spine and it wasn't helped be the nearness of one rather damp and half naked Colonel smelling of fresh sweat and sun-filled water. 

"I can see the attraction." Daniel breathed as he pulled Jack onto the rug.

"I thought you were hungry Daniel."

"Oh yeah - VERY hungry rubberboy!"

Lunch was rather late that day.

* * *

Part 5

"Daniel, you know how much I love you, don'tcha?"

"Yes, Jack, I do."

"Do I have to prove it to you again by wearing that, uh, that thing?"

Daniel's eyes narrowed. "Yes, you do, O'Neill. I want you see you in the formal modern kilt with MacNeill tartan. You said you'd do it today."

"Daniel, I only said I'd do it because you took your mouth off my dick, and wouldn't finish me unless I said yes. I mean, talk about being under duress!"

The younger man looked up at his lover through his lashes, now using all of his natural armament in what he had mentally labeled "the kilt argument". 

"Jack, seeing you in that kilt is going to make me want to fuck you blind, with the damned thing still on. But you don't have to wear it if it upsets you too much." Lower lip moved out into a pout. Jack could *never* resist the eyelashes and the pout together.

"Fuck me until I'm blind? I'll wear the damned thing if you promise me that, and one other thing once we get back home."

"What?"

"Two words. Jell-O wrestling."

"NO, Jack, for the thousandth time, no Jell-O wrestling. And you did promise, Colonel. What happened to the gentleman part of officer and a gentleman?"

"I was just teasing. Daniel, I'll wear the damn thing. But you had better fuck me blind in it afterwards to make it worth my embarrassment, you hear me? And if I'm left with even partial sight afterwards, you'll be sorry!"

Daniel kissed him. "I hear you. I love you, Jack O'Neill. Thank you for this wonderful vacation you planned."

"I didn't plan the skirt. Commere."

Jack started hunkering down to deepen the kiss when Daniel pushed him away, laughing through kiss-swollen lips. "We'll be late for dinner, love. Come on."

"Fuck dinner."

"No, not fuck dinner. Fuck later. Come on, Jack, Iain promised he'd bring his collection of antique highland brooches for us to see, and I really want to see them."

Jack glared a bit. "Well, at least I should be grateful that he didn't offer to show you his brooches in his room."

"I can't believe you are jealous of Iain."

"Are you kidding, Daniel? He's hot, he's young, he's gay, he's a frigging Earl, for Christ's sake, he's young, he likes history like you, he's fucking young..."

"Ah, he may be all those things, Colonel-mine, but he doesn't have what I want."

"What's that?"

Daniel punctuated each point with a kiss. "Silver Fox hair." Kiss. "Eyes in my favorite flavor. Chocolate." Kiss. Kiss. "Lips that can come up with the darndest things." Kiss. "Hands that can make me scream and arms that make me feel safe." Kiss. Kiss. He got down on his knees in front of Jack's chinos. "A dick that fills me up to my soul." Kiss. "Dicky knees that I have to take care of." Kiss. Kiss. He stood back up, leaned forward, and kissed Jack's left breast through the cotton button-down. "A heart that is as big as a world, to hold me in." Finally he stood back and looked at Jack. "Not to mention the class A's, cap, and shades. Or the sexy way you kill Goa'uld after you insult them. Or how sexy you look when you're jealous and smoldering. When you say Sweet. Or you, agreeing to wear this kilt for me, even though you hate the things. All of it, Jack. The entire Colonel Jonathan Anthony O'Neill, US Air Force package. I've loved you since you first told me I was full of shit, and I'll never stop loving you. And I don't love lightly, Jack, you know that."

Jack, his emotions overwhelming him, pulled his partner tightly to him. Trying to will the tears that wanted to wuss him out away, he mumbled into Danny's neck, "Sap. Love ya too, Danny. Let's go eat, and look at the Earl's jewelry, okay?"

His lover pulled back. "You're crying." He reached up and wiped the tears with his thumbs, then put them in his mouth to taste the salty wetness. "Why?"

"Because I know how damn hard I am to love, Daniel. How hard it is for me to open up, to give someone as good as you what he needs. I'm a selfish, jealous, possessive bastard who wants my way all the time. I know that. Yet you still *love* me."

"To tell you the truth, Jack, I like you being jealous and possessive. It makes me as hot as Egypt." At the gleam that came to his love's eyes, he added, "Within reason, of course. As long as you really do trust that I won't go after anyone else."

"I do, Daniel. Like I said, I'm a possessive asshole who thinks with his dick and his trigger finger instead of his head more times than not."

Daniel kissed Jack lightly. "You're MY Possessive asshole, and it's MY dick, and MY trigger finger, Jack. Now, I'm hungry, let's go to dinner and see those brooches. Did you actually call them jewelry?"

Jack shrugged as he got his jacket. "Hey, they're made of precious metals, they got fancy stones in em, and they get worn. They're jewelry."

As they left their room, Daniel laughed. "By that definition, I guess they are, Colonel-mine."

"Jack?"

"Yeah, Danny?"

"Will you wear your class A's to dinner tomorrow? Lachlan said it's going to be a bit more formal."

"No skirt?"

"No, no kilt."

"Then, Daniel my love, I'd go to dinner buck naked as long as I don't have to wear that skirt more than twice."

"Twice, Jack?"

"Yeah, Danny. Once for the damned dance, and once for you to fuck me blind in."

Daniel leaned over as they entered the dining hall. "I love it when you talk dirty, flyboy."

"Me too, artifact-boy."

Lachlan wasn't going to let Jack circumvent his fun, and he was waiting to pounce on the two men as they came in. This time, it was Daniel who managed to get them away from their host by mentioning his promise to eat with Iain. He also promised they would sit with Lachlan during the formal dinner.

"Damn, you're smooth when you want to be, Dr. Jackson." Jack mumbled as they made their way over to Iain.

"I've had enough experience smoothing over things for you, Jack. But thank you, anyway."

"I'll show you who can do smooth, Jackson, just wait."

Daniel grinned and pinched Jack's butt. "Is that a promise?"

"Colonel's honor."

When they came up to Iain, the Earl sighed theatrically. "Will you two please stop doing that?"

"What?"

"That sappy stuff. You're making us singles feel bad." He smiled up at Daniel, sea-colored eyes glinting with mischief. "Though I can tell you, Daniel, that the single ladies here are extremely disappointed that the two of you are so obviously together. Lost opportunities, and all that."

Daniel smiled back, putting his hand on Iain's shoulder as he climbed over the bench to sit beside him. "I know. I can't take Jack anywhere without the women dropping like flies, or drooling on him, or something like that."

Jack, glaring at Daniel's hand on the Earl's shoulder, growled, "It isn't me they're disappointed with, Daniel. It's you."

Both Iain and Daniel made a big deal out of leaning back and looking Jack up and down under the table. Then the two younger men looked at each other and shook their heads. "No way, Jack, it's you, and always has been." "Sorry to disagree, Colonel, but they aren't looking at your face when you walk by wearing slacks like that."

Jack grabbed for a tanker of ale. "Hey, gang up on a guy, why don'tcha!"

They looked at each other, then grinned. "Okay."

/God, am I in for it now. Ganged up on by two gorgeous young smartasses with great eyes, great asses, and snarky personalities. Why me? Face it, O'Neill, life just doesn't get any better than this, and you get to take the best one of them home with you, too!/ 

Colonel Jonathan O'Neill, Special Forces bad-ass and killer, was blushing red as a rose the entire evening from the teasing he underwent by the two dagger-tongued younger men. He had the time of his life.

* * *

Part 6

Next morning fairly early, Lachlan gave them a private tour of the castle. To everyone's surprise, and Lachlan's irritation, Iain showed up as well, and went with them without being invited.

As their host discussed things like stone archways and corner stone rituals with Daniel, Jack hung back and cornered the Earl.

"All right, Murray, spill it. Why'd you show up here? It was obvious that you weren't invited, and it pissed Lachie off."

For once, Iain's laughing eyes were serious. "What do you make of our host, Colonel?"

"I'm off duty, for crying out loud. Call me Jack."

Iain smiled. "All right, Jack. Are you going to answer me?" 

"What d'ya want, a military threat assessment?"

"I want whatever you'll give me, Jack."

Jack had to smile at the teasing. Then his face went serious as his eyes moved over to where Lachie had his hand on Daniel's arm. "There's something off about this guy. Something that set off the alarm bell inside my head that's kept me alive so long in this job. It's never been wrong yet and it isn't just because he keeps trying to feel up Danny, either. I don't like him. He isn't just an innkeeper, like he says." The Colonel turned brown eyes toward the Earl. "And if you're a government bureaucrat, I'm the President of the United States."

Iain smiled again. "I should have known I couldn't fool you. If I tell you, you will have to keep it to yourself. Not even Daniel can know, I'm afraid."

"Hey - we both have ultra top secret clearance in America, Iain. But I'll keep it to myself, if that's what it takes to get the truth out of ya. My word on it." 

"Have you heard of Alpha Force, Jack?"

Jack nodded, surprised and impressed despite himself. He'd heard of the elite British group, and knew only the best operatives from the British Special Forces were approved to join. "Yeah. That's the group that was set up directly reporting to the Prime Minister for countering internal and external terrorism, isn't it?"

"We actually help Scotland Yard and the other services from time to time as well on other jobs that match our, um, rather varied expertise. I'm here under cover investigating a string of tourist's deaths in the area."

"Deaths?" Now alarm bells were really going off.

"Yes. Over the last fifteen years, over ten people have died on this island by supposedly accidental causes. Nine of those were tourists, one a Scotsman. He was a friend of mine. The tourist was his girlfriend, a Frenchwoman. They died when they supposedly got stuck in one of the many underground caves in the area, and drowned when the tide came in. Their bodies were so badly beat up that they were almost unrecognizable."

"That sounds pretty accidental to me. Daniel said the guidebook mentioned how dangerous the caves around here are during high tide."

"Tam grew up on this Island, Jack. He knew the caves and mountains as well as the lines on the palms of his hands. There is no way he would get caught out in one of them. Plus, Nannia was on the Olympic swimming team for France for the last eight years. They could have swam out, even if they were caught there during high tide. Lubanach is notorious for his hobnobbing with titled guests, and since I spent almost every summer here as a child with my mother, who was born on Mull, I volunteered to come and investigate when I brought my concerns up to my supervisor and the head of Scotland Yard."

"Your supervisor? Right, the Prime Minister."

"Colonel, every one of those people died on either the winter or the summer solstices."

"And the summer solstice comes up this Sunday. D'ya think we'll be in any danger? And how does Lachie come into it?"

"He's big into the Celtic religion of our forefathers, and the power his family still wields on this Island is pretty strong. I've never liked him, even when we went to Oxford together. Like you put so clearly, there is something off about him. If he isn't involved in whatever's happening, well, I'd be extremely surprised."

Iain turned and watched as Daniel reverently fingered some ornate wooden carving, his eyes fairly shining with enthusiasm.

"I don't really think you or Daniel will be in any danger, Jack, since it's obvious even to a blind man that you can easily protect yourself and him. I'd think you would be too great a threat if they kidnapped you or Daniel. They have much easier prey around."

"Daniel can protect himself, too. He's had to learn, in our job." When Iain looked at Jack with curiosity, the Colonel added, "Can't tell you. Sorry."

"Well, I wanted you to have a heads up on this, because of what you are, actually. I had you and Daniel checked out by our intelligence boys. You've worked with our people before, and they told me just how good you are at your, uh, job. Daniel, they couldn't find much on, other than the fact that he's pretty much disappeared from academic notice. I couldn't risk that you might smell a rat in this and come in with guns blazing."

O'Neill smiled at Iain's dramatic Americanisms. "Only one gun, actually. I didn't bring my entire arsenal on this trip, even if the fish around here are almost bigger than I am. I only brought my personal weapon, and mostly out of old habit. Don't worry, though. Danny and I are here to relax, spend some non-secret quality time together, fish and sight-see." Now Jack frowned at Iain. "Our relationship will remain secret from your sources, won't it, Iain?"

"Of course, Jack. We have "don't ask, don't tell" in our military as well. If I did mention your relationship to anyone, they'd wonder how I knew of it, I expect. And I won't have anyone getting that close to my own personal tastes. I like my job too much."

"Good. Glad we're on the same page, here." He turned to look at Danny, who was bent at the waist examining something in a glass case. Lubanach was so close to the archeologist that his hand was almost touching Daniel's backside. "That guy's way too close to Daniel. I'll be glad when this damned tour is over. This castle is way too drafty, and it's killing my dickey knees. Let's go interrupt them, Iain. You take the right archeologist flank, and I'll take the left, next to Lachie. I'm older, so I know how to look more intimidating than you, what with that pretty face of yours."

"Yours isn't exactly ugly, Colonel. But it will be my pleasure to gang up on Lachlan. He's a bloody asshole!"

It took the two men almost another hour to drag Daniel away from the Laird, his marvelous collection, and his not-so-marvelous super-glue hands. Jack finally had to promise Daniel that he could choose any spot on the island to go sight-seeing later. He also found himself reluctantly agreeing to let Iain accompany them when Daniel graciously invited him along. Jack had harbored some vague hopes of persuading Danny to partake of some more al fresco Hebredian nookie, but saw that particular daydream evaporate with the Earl's happy acceptance. Hell, it was probably too frigging cold and wet outside, anyway.

While Daniel trotted off to the kitchens to charm the cook and pick up their lunch hamper, Jack strolled with Iain to the Great Hall. The Special Agent looked way too relaxed and happy to be concentrating on his mission. 

They reached the massive dark oak door and Jack turned, blocking the exit and halting the Earl with a light touch and a glare. "Shouldn't you be out looking for a tourist killer or something, Murray?"

Iain took a step closer, way too much closer, actually, and raised an eyebrow over stormy eyes. "Don't fret now Jack, I do ken what I'm doing, you know."

"Yeah - driving me insane. I wanted to get some time alone with Danny..."

The Earl's changeable eyes darkened to greenish-gray. "Jack, I have a bad feeling about Daniel. He's got victim stamped all over him, he seems to trust everyone and anyone, and Lachie, as you call him, seems fascinated by the lad, rather like a snake and a mongoose, actually."

"I can look after Daniel myself, Murray, with no help from someone who was in short pants at Oxford when I was bleeding on the sands of Iraq." growled Jack, taking a step closer to the Earl, a step that put him well inside Iain's personal space as well. Most men (the smart ones) would take that as threatening. Iain took it as a major come-on. He closed the remaining inch and took twin handfuls of leather jacket, trapping Jack against the door and showing him quite graphically with some intense rubbing, just how impressive he found the Colonel's alpha killer routine.

Jack, again feeling his dick responding automatically to Iain's alpha games, braced his hands against strong shoulders and pushed. "Hey - both Danny and I are exclusive. I'm flattered and tempted, but exclusive."

At the sound of footsteps on the stone floor, Iain pulled back and adjusted himself to try to get more comfortable, smiling a little sadly at Jack.

"Can't say I blame you there, Colonel. I wouldn't share either of you if you were mine. But maybe Daniel would be a bit more open to my advances? After all, he is a bit younger than you, isn't he, and probably has more energy that way?" Now the Earl was grinning, obviously baiting Jack.

"Don't even go there, fella."

Iain's smile turned predatory. He saw Jack shift into super alpha male mode and gladly joined in the game. He glanced over his shoulder and whispered to Jack, "I can see that you are more than capable of protecting him, but I would still feel better sticking close for the next few hours. Call it a hunch."

/Close to protect, my ass. You want to get close to Danny's and my asses!/

Jack had no time to reply, however. Daniel appeared, toting an overflowing hamper and grinning like a loon.

"Morag gave us some scones and clotted cream! She's from Cornwall originally, and that's a favorite over there." The archeologist licked his lips at the thought of the treat, his blue eyes dancing. He seemed unaware that two other sets of eyes were watching the action avidly. 

Daniel handed the basket to Jack and threw open the door, taking a huge lungful of fresh Scottish air. Jack met Iain's eyes and glared good-naturedly. Already he was thinking up ways to out alpha the Earl to show off in front of Daniel.

MacPherson was lounging against the Rover, smoking a thick cigar when they emerged. He opened the passenger door for Daniel, but as usual, left Jack to see to himself. He nodded at Murray fondly. 

"Fare ye weel, Iain, yer going oot wit yon Sassanach today?"

"Aye, Andrew, ye ken how Ah am, I always di' like yon bonny soldier laddies, e'en if they be yanks."

"Speak English!" Ordered O'Neill, glaring at Iain for making way too much body contact with him as the younger man climbed into the Landrover. 

Ignoring the pissy Colonel and the Earl, who was obviously on the hunt, after making sure the three men were strapped in, Andrew smiled broadly at the archaeologist sitting in the place of honor beside him. 

"So lad - where weel I be taking ye gallivanting today?"

/Oh here we go, some museum or maybe that bird sanctuary he's been ranting about, or - please god, not the pottery shards found in that old ruin! Danny can stare at pottery shards for hours./

Daniel surprised Jack by not wanting to see any of those places, at least not yet. His first passion was archaeology, the more ancient the artifacts, the better. He pulled out a map from his hip pocket and handed it to their driver.

"I would love to see some of the Island's Standing stones. I know we don't have much time, but this circle at Lochbuie just next to Craignure is fairly close to the Castle."

Jack sighed. So he was to spend the next couple of hours trudging through drenched fields looking for an ancient obelisk? Beside him in the back seat, Iain leaned forward and peered with interest at the leaflet Daniel was holding. He was also putting his hand on Jack's thigh while he leaned. Jack thought about removing the hand with a chop, but noticed that Iain was putting most of his weight on that hand. The Colonel reluctantly decided that a hand on his leg was better than an entire Iain falling into his lap if he lost his balance. Jack might not be able to get the guy unpeeled from him before they arrived at the rocks.

"Ah yes - that circle has a rather gruesome history. I could tell you a tale or two."

"Like we don't get enough of that in our work." Jack mumbled, pulling his head in like a turtle so Daniel wouldn't hear him bitch. /Shit, the things I do to keep my linguist happy! I should get another Air Medal for putting up with this stuff./ Grinning suddenly, he thought of Daniel, dressed in absolutely nothing, putting the Air Medal around Jack's Class A's-dressed neck. The almost automatic stirring in his groin at the daydream made him move his hand from where he was fighting off Iain's flanking attack on his thigh to his groin for deep cover of vulnerable points. 

Daniel twisted round in his seat, enthusiasm radiating from every pore. The hairs on the back of Jack's neck began to prick up as he realized that the well-versed Iain was definitely ahead on points here. Daniel was grinning, something that Jack didn't see nearly enough of lately. It almost made up for the fact that it hadn't been the Colonel that had been responsible for putting the smile there.

"Oh, I'd love to hear those stories, Iain!"

"Then I shall enjoy the telling of them."

Jack slumped down in his seat like a petulant child. He fumed silently, determined not to spoil Daniel's light-hearted mood, biting back any comment that would have earned him a disapproving glare from his lover. He wanted Daniel to enjoy himself, damnit, and he wouldn't enjoy this outing if the Colonel decided to beat the shit out of the Brit.

The drive from Tobermory to the Stone Circle took less than twenty minutes. It seemed like hours to Jack, who had to listen to the two enthusiasts babbling on about granite monoliths. When Iain slipped neatly into Gaelic, Jack barely noticed until he heard the words azimuth and declination. Gaelic was basically an ancient language, and many modern words had no literal translation. He recognized those particular references from his own astronomy experience and began to perk up. Perhaps he did have something to offer the conversation.

When Iain stopped talking to take a breath, Jack pushed in. "A declination of -23.7 degrees would indicate the position of the setting sun at the winter solstice. The opposite declination, 23.7, would indicate the summer solstice." 

The look on Daniel's face was absolutely priceless. There was no time to gloat though; they had arrived at the end of what Jack had laughingly referred to as a 'death by sheep' road. No more than a track, devoid of anything resembling the ubiquitous Scottish tarmac, the road ended at a cattle grid. Andrew pulled the Rover to the side, using the bumper to nudge a particularly dumb-assed sheep gently out of the way with experienced ease. The animal glared at the metal monster, flicking its tail as it went on about its sheepy business, obviously not hurt from its adventure.

"Will ye be walking back tae the castle or will ye want me tae stay here?"

Jack glanced across the flat cornfield to the impressive edifice of Duart. It looked like a 15 minute walk at best. He had no problem with it but he hoped smiling boy there would. The Earl dashed his hopes by smiling widely.

"I don't mind at all. Actually, it would suit me fine. I still need to borrow a Claymore from Sir Lachlan for the gathering, and I know he'll probably be on this side of his property today. We might meet him on the way."

Jack frowned at the reference of both the gathering and their host, as well as at the continued presence of the annoying Earl. He had to ask a question, though.

"Claymore...? As in Claymore mine?"

"As in a Scottish two-handed sword of the 15th and 16th centuries Jack." Laughed Daniel from behind him. Andrew snorted at the Yank's ignorance and slammed closed the driver's door.

"I'll be getting hame then, if ya dinae need me."

The Earl waved farewell to their driver, who was skillfully swinging the large car round without killing even one sheep in a tight arc, then turned back to the two SG men. He insinuated himself between them and hooked an arm though each of theirs, leading them to the antiquated stile that allowed them access to the field.

"So Daniel, tell me what you already know of the stone circle?"

Jack wished he'd taken a while to familiarize himself with the history of the Island. He could see Iain's game clearly enough, see how he was neatly trying to cut Jack out of the picture. Well he could just forget that! The stunt with the Gaelic in the car had backfired and so would any other tricks the younger man had up his sleeve. The seasoned veteran that was Jack was wise to all the tricks. 

When they reached the stile, Jack reached in front of the Earl and took Daniel's elbow to help him over the step. Daniel smiled brightly at his lover and accepted the help, even though it was probably the dickey-kneed Jack who needed it more than the fit archeologist.

When they were over the fence, Jack quickly slipped his arm around Daniel's waist, clearly telegraphing the MINE vibe right at Iain, who merely smirked and walked closely on Daniel's other side. Danny was ecstatic by this time. He could see the stones as they approached and had verbally clicked into archeological anthropologist mode, which Jack didn't have a hope in hell of understanding. His only option here was to distract his lover away from the longer words into something that even Jack could understand.

"Talk about phallic..." Jack gloated as the first of the six stones loomed on the horizon. Iain snorted rudely and Daniel rolled his eyes.

"It's always about sex with you isn't it Jack?" asked his lover with unconscious condescension. Iain glanced sideways at the Colonel and delivered his opening shot.

"One reaches a certain age, and suddenly everything is about sex, is it not, Colonel O'Neill."

"Ha ha - very funny! And it's the other way around, Murray. The age is the teens for the sex. The forties are for sex and wisdom." Jack threw back, wishing he had thought of something more clever to say. Daniel was trying vainly to hide a smile behind his hand at his two suitors' antics, especially the Colonel's. Jack kicked at a loose stone and watched as it bounced across the grass, startling another dumb-assed sheep. Served the dumb thing right.

"Did you know that the ancient builders of this place used to perform ritual sacrifices, Jack?"

"Hey, maybe we should re-enact history here. Murray, you want to volunteer? I'm sure I can find a knife somewhere."

Iain bared his teeth at the Colonel. "Actually, they usually took the older men and women, you know, the ones around your age, Colonel, since they were considered more of a burden to the community than men in their prime, like Daniel and I."

Brown eyes narrowing, Jack growled quietly at his rival. "I'll show you who's a burden, Murray."

Daniel, sensing an immanent clash between the two men, spoke up hurriedly. "Actually, they rarely took upstanding members of the community to sacrifice, no matter what their ages. The victims were usually prisoners of war, or criminals, Romans, that sort of type. They were usually men, as well. The women prisoners were given to members of the tribe as slaves."

Jack smiled, one of his scariest smiles. "You'd look just right as a slave, Earl Murray."

"Jack, only women were made into slaves. You weren't listening." Daniel had gone from flattered to annoyed in the space of the last few hours. These two idiots were ruining his fun-filled day! "Neither of you were. If you two continue to insist on acting like mating bucks in a head-butting contest, I am going to leave you behind and go sightseeing on my own for the rest of the day!"

A shot of fear went through Jack at the thought of Daniel wandering the island on his own with a serial killer around. He looked over at Iain, and saw the same concern in the younger man's eyes. "Sorry, Daniel, Iain and I were just having a little fun. I'll behave."

"As will I, Daniel. Tell me, what do you know about how these stones were carved and carried here? Do you really think they were made as a giant astrology lab, Jack?"

That question bought both men into the conversation, and they all had a surprisingly good time after that. So much so that the three of them decided to walk a little more distance and have dinner in one of Iain's favorite pubs in Tobermory village. It ended up a very good day, especially when Jack beat Iain three times in a row at darts.

* * *

Part 7

On the day of the gathering, the guys opted to take it easy. They asked MacPherson to drive them into town to shop for gifts for their friends back home. Jack had his work cut out stopping Daniel from buying every piece of tasteless tat in the gift shop. Now that the man made a lot of money, it was unbelievable the odd things he would come home and proudly display to his lover. Once Daniel had dragged a stuffed armadillo dressed in a tee-shirt with "Texas is for armadillos" printed on it into the house. The damned thing smelled and had ants. Thank god Hammond had taken one look at it and fell in love with it. Now the nasty item proudly graced the General's garage bench. Daniel, with lots of persuasion from Jack, couldn't refuse to give it to their CO.

They found a quaint little local pub which was serving meals and Daniel ordered Haggis and Neeps. Jack was a simple man with simple tastes and chickened out of sampling the local delicacy, quite literally. He ordered roast chicken. As Daniel's plate materialized before him, Jack leaned in close

"You do know what that's made of dontcha Danny?" he asked, a look of bewildered disgust on his face. Daniel smiled and severed the string knot used to tie the sheep's stomach closed with one flick from the sharp knife.

"Of course I do. You know your problems Jack? You in a rut, an old dog, set in your ways, unadventurous..."

Jack's eyes grew wider with each casually flung out challenge. The last one almost resulted in his eyebrows achieving orbit.

"Daniel..." He answered back finally in that quiet voice which was the Colonel at his most dangerous. "Cast your mind back to this morning and tell me again that I'm unadventurous! My knees are still hurting, and you are still walking funny, you know."

Daniel just grinned and ate his haggis. Jack refused to watch. 

MacPherson picked them up outside the pub and drove them back to the castle. He seemed to be in a good mood, which Jack found very disquieting. The Colonel had gotten used to the old codger's scowl and this sudden propensity for grinning was freaking him out! 

/If he smiles at me one more time, I swear, I'll walk the rest of the way! Reminds me of the way Hathor smiled at the men, without the sex part./

When they arrived back at the castle, a very odd thing happened that really left Jack reeling. MacPherson actually got out with them to help with the packages. Daniel grabbed his share and went wandering up to talk with the old gardener, Joseph, whom he had struck up a friendship with.

Jack eyeballed the grizzled old guide warily as he helped him for the first time since they'd hired him. "Okay - what's going on? You're actually helping us with our bags? Did the Little People replace the real MacPherson with a golem or changeling, or something?

The guide bared his teeth at O'Neill, blushing at the same time. Finally he reached into the back of the Rover and pulled a long wrapped bundle out, cradling it in his arms like a baby.

"Ah heard yer to go to th' celeidh tonight in MacNeill colors, escorting yon bonny lad. Weel, Ah thought as ye might be needing some protection jus' in case."

Jack's hand moved automatically to his breast pocket where he kept his wallet and three condoms before realizing that the old man was referring to the contents of the bundle. MacPherson's eyes took on a proud gleam as he opened up the tartan blanket reverently and held out a long beat-up leather scabbard to Jack.

"These were me ma's da's grand-da's, and they kept many a MacNeill safe from the deveels o' the time. I want ye to wear them, to keep young Daniel safe." 

Jack automatically grasped the scabbard but his eyes were wide with shock. 

"You're mother was a MacNeill?" He asked incredulously.

"Aye. We're kin."

Jack eyed up the scrawny old man. "Distant kin, I think."

"Take oot the claymore, Colonel. Let it get a feel for ye." 

Jack took hold of the top of the scabbard and the copper hilt of the sword and reverently pulled the blade out. It was shining in the weak light with the pewter gleam of well made steel. As soon as Jack held up the broadsword, he felt a weird kinship with it. It was heavy, at least forty pounds. Standing back from Andrew, the Colonel swung the sword around two-handed, which is how it was meant to be handled. Then he tried one-handed, but it didn't feel right doing it that way.

After playing with it a little longer, he finally reverently put it back into the scabbard. Jack picked up the leather scabbard that held a foot-long dirk, meant to be worn on the hip, while the sword was held over the back. The knife was slightly pitted with age, but again was obviously well made. It had perfect balance, light and deadly in Jack's hand.

Andrew nodded as Jack did some feints with the knife. "Ye ken how to use a dirk, then?"

"Yeah. I've picked up a few tricks during sixteen years in Special Ops." Jack was being modest, for once. He was a master knife wielder. 

"Aye, Ah knew ye were the one for these." He picked up a small black sheath. "This be the seign dubh, which were worn in a stocking under the breacan feildh." Pulling it out of the sheath, the knife almost sucked the light away, its black blade gleaming richly. "It's sharp eno' to cut the throat of e'en a bloody Campbell. My Mam's Da told me it were made with his Grand-Da's blood in it during the forging, so that it would recognize that a MacNeill held it. Once a MacTavish took it out of the sheath and the blade almost cut his finger off. Let's see if it kens ye as a MacNeill, laddy."

Andrew handed the naked blade to Jack, who reverently ran his fingers up the black steel blade and the wooden hilt that was polished to a shine from centuries of use. It was sharp, yet the balance was perfect for a throw if he had to do it. Jack had never seen such a beautifully made piece of deadly weaponry.

"It's beautiful." Jack looked at the older man. "Thank you for lending these to me. I can tell how valuable they are."

"Ay not be lending anything, Jack ribhach (gray-haired), ye clotheid! I be passing these on to ye, being ye's kin of my mam's. I ha' nae bairns of me own to pass them on to, and I figured that protecting yon Daniel must be nigh on to a full time job for ye. This will give ye some more weapons to do it with, that have served the MacNeill's well for a loong time."

Jack's mouth dropped open. "I can't take these from you, Andy. They're valuable antiques!"

Gray eyes narrowed in anger and righteous insult. "Do ye refuse to take em, Son of Neill?"

Jack was a shrewd enough leader to know that he had almost insulted the Scotsman beyond repair by refusing. "No, if it's what you want, MacPherson. I'll take these, and you have my honor as a, uh, son of Neill, that I will treat them with the honor they deserve. And I'll use them to keep Daniel safe. You have my word on it."

MacPherson grinned. "Aye. He's a special un, that un is. I expect evil latches onto him like a babbe to his mam's teat. They'll serve ye well."

"Thank you, uh, kinsman." Jack held out his hand, and the older man caught his wrist in a warrior's clasp. The Colonel felt a lump in his throat, honored because this old warrior treated Jack like he was an equal. Jack didn't know how he knew that Andrew had been a warrior. But he was absolutely certain of it. In fact, the guy reminded him of Bra'tac, for some reason.

"Ach, now, get on wi' ye, and take a care with Daniel!" In minutes Andrew had jumped into the rover and was gone down the road.

Jack decided to hide the sword and knives and surprise Daniel later, when he dressed up.

They were getting ready for the party. Jack came out of the shower, towel hanging low on his hips, hair damp and sticking up in spots, to a most inviting sight. Daniel's ass sticking up in the air being waggled at him through the pale linen material of what reminded O'Neill of a nightshirt. The garment came down to mid thigh and was baggy and loose around the arms. Daniel was kneeling amidst a rug of tartan material, grumbling under his breath and trying to fold the material into something that would resemble a kilt. 

Jack glanced over at his own MacNeill tartan modern dress kilt, already prepped and hanging on the back of the door along with the crisp white shirt and black dress coat. He looked back at the ass waving before his face and wondered if there would be enough time to get in a little action before the big dance thing started. Hopefully he reached out and patted Daniel's enticing ass.

The younger man jumped in fright, so deep had he been in his endeavors as to have not heard Jack's bare-footed approach. He glanced up at his friend and then back at the uncooperative tartan.

"I can't get this to lay right," he stated unnecessarily, transfixed by the dog tags swinging back and forth across Jack's bare chest as Jack knelt beside him. His lover picked up the typed instruction sheet that had come with the material. He turned it upside down. It didn't help. 

"Why the hell didn't you insist on having a proper kilt, Daniel?"

The archaeologist sighed and made a grab for the discarded paper, poking his finger accusingly at the typewritten words.

"This IS a real kilt Jack. It's called a feileadh mÌ©ør which literally translated from the Gaelic means big wrap or great kilt..."

"Well it sure doesn't look that great to me" interrupted Jack, taking the paper from his friend and looking at it again frowning. "It looks like a big, scratchy blanket. Is this written in Gaelic?"

"Yes it is, Jack, but I can understand it, mostly. Gaelic hasn't changed much in the last five thousand years."

Daniel stood up and adjusted his shirt and Jack realized for the first time that the neck was hanging open almost to Daniel's navel. There were loose leather thongs on either side to fasten it up. He stood as well and fingered the thongs, finally using them to pull his lover closer. Daniel went a little reluctantly until his body made contact with Jack's still damp one and he sighed and relaxed into a passionate kiss. Moments later, Jack had him pressed firmly up against the wall, his hands sweeping slowly up and down the bare thigh that the shirt left exposed. Daniel shivered under the relentless caress

"We don't have time for this,..." he panted as Jack's questing fingers crept under the ragged hem.

"Aw c'mon Danny," coaxed Jack, letting his fingers stop just south of the mark. Daniel's hips rocked forward, neatly negating his words with an agenda of their own. But in the end, common sense prevailed when the large Grandfather Clock in the corner struck the quarter hour, making them jump apart guiltily.

Jack laughed at his friends flushed face and waggled his finger at him. "Later Daniel....I swear I will find out what a Scotsman wears under his feel more."

"feileadh mÌ©ør Jack. Are you going to help or just stand there gloating?"

Jack handed his friend the paper and knelt down beside the acres of tartan. "Ok you translate and I'll do the folding"

Fifteen minutes and a lot of cursing later, the two men had managed to get the material to co-operate. It lay on the floor before them, seven and a half feet of gaudy red and yellow tartan, folded into neat pleats down its length and left unfolded at the two edges. Jack handed the thick leather belt to Daniel and smiled wolfishly.

"So you said we have to use our hands to measure the distance from your waist," he caressed said waist gently with strong but gentle fingers, "to the floor", the fingers skimmed downwards to the hem of the shirt and then back up. Daniel gasped and leaned in towards Jack, the belt almost slipping from his nerveless fingers.

"Jack, if you don't stop that..."

"You'll do what kiltboy?" And they were kissing again, even more passionately than before. These days it seemed that they couldn't be alone together for more than a few minutes before they ended up in a clinch. This time it was Jack who drew back.

"C'mon - lets get you into this thing. Just promise me something."

"What's' that?"

"That I get to unwrap you later." Jack leered at his lover. "It'll be like Christmas." 

Daniel smiled and kissed the tip of his colonel's nose. "Lets hope it takes less time in reverse!"

"Hey - Special Ops trained here remember? You'll be minus the skirt before the door is finished closing!" 

They managed the next part of the proceeding fairly well, the belt had to be slipped under the material at waist height, then Daniel lay down amidst the folds and wrapped the two unpleated edges around his middle. Jack helpfully secured the belt at his waist then pulled him to his feet. The kilt miraculously stayed where it was but there was still an awful lot of material hanging down. Jack lifted the trailing edges and frowned.

"And what do we do with this?"

Daniel scrutinized the instructions again.

"Ah - right - you ah, you twist them tightly and then the whole thing gets pinned over my left shoulder..." He went over to the chest of drawers and picked up an ornate gold brooch. "...with this." He handed the brooch to Jack who tried to read the Gaelic writing on it. After a few abortive attempts, he glanced hopefully at his friend. "Buaidh No Bas - it means Victory or death. It's the MacDougall clan crest, same as the tartan"

Jack motioned for Daniel to turn round and grabbed a handful of loose material. A moment later he was pinning the gold brooch to Daniel's shirt. He continued to stare into the blue eyes as he carefully tied the shirt thongs right up as high as he could go. Daniel's expression became quizzical so Jack explained.

"Taking no chances here Danny, not with you looking like that. The only exposed part of you that anyone gets to see is the knees, and only 'cos those damned socks don't go up that far."

"Ditto for you by the way. Much though I love to see you wearing nothing but a towel, the party started ten minutes ago and you are still sans one kilt outfit."

Jack tugged at the towel until it pooled in a heap at his feet, noting with satisfaction Daniel's focused admiration at the sight of him naked. It never ceased to amaze him how Daniel could find his saggy old butt so attractive, but he'd seen the evidence of it often enough to believe it was the truth. He sashayed over to the door, took the costume down, and went back in the bathroom, taking his own sweet time getting dressed. Daniel grinned as he watched Jack tease him. It was going to be one of those nights, where they would tease and entice each other right under the noses of everyone else, turn each other on with a look, a light touch, until finally they shut themselves away in their room. That moment couldn't come quickly enough for Daniel.

Nothing in Daniel's previous experiences with Jack O'Neill prepared him for the sight that stood proudly in the bathroom doorway. 

/God, now I know what the phrase "Noble Barbarian" means./

Jack stood straight, his brown eyes watching anxiously for Daniel's reaction to how he looked. Behind the Colonel's broad shoulders was, yes, it had to be, the hilt of a scabbarded sword! The white cotton of his shirt fit tightly to O'Neill's muscular chest, with the tartan material draped over his left shoulder and pinned with a MacNeill brooch. Jack's narrow waist was covered with a thick black leather belt. To the left side was, ...was that a long knife in a sheath? Yes it was, a dirk, the Scotsmen called it. On the left side of Jack's hip was his 9 millimeter, the holster attached to the belt. Around one of the Colonel's tartan stockings was wrapped a black leather band and sheath that obviously held a seign dubh.

"Close your mouth, Danny, or you'll catch flies in it." Jack couldn't help a pleased smirk at his lover's instant arousal, as shown by Danny's flushed face, multiple lip lickings, and enlarged pupils. That damned blanket covered any other traces, but Jack was a patient man. He could wait to see that later.

"Um, where did you get the Claymore and knives, Jack? Not that they don't suit you, of course. And why are you bringing your gun?"

"MacPherson gave the blades to me Danny, it seems that his mother was a MacNeill. He doesn't have any sons to pass them on to, so he gave them to me so I could use them to protect you, since he thinks you need protecting. Wise Scotsman, that one. The gun is because the highlanders always wore pistols, and I don't have a traditional one-shot."

"I'll have to thank Andrew." He put his hands on his kilted hips. "I *can* protect myself, Jack. I don't need a sword-wielding pirate hovering everywhere I go, and I can't really see George allowing you to take a sword that is longer than his Chief Medical Officer off world. I mean..." 

Jack finally burst out, "How do I look, Danny! For crying out loud, say something."

Daniel smiled, coming up to his totally ravishing lover, licking his lips a few more times. "You look like an authentic barbarian highland chieftain to me, Jack O'Neill, except you don't have the usual warrior's queue, you know, a braid. I can't believe how well those blades suit you in that outfit."

"Yeah, it's like they were made for me, ya know? It was weird."

"We're going to be late, Jack, we'd better get going. Now I don't want you and Iain playing your usual games, you hear me? I'll really get annoyed at you two if you spend all evening one-upping each other."

"I never play games, Daniel. I'm deadly serious all the time. You know that. If the Earl keeps eyeing your butt like he's been doing, well, that's why I'm armed." The Colonel grinned, fingering the dirk with one hand and scratching behind his centered sporran with the other. This fucking wool was itchy!

/God, I'm in for it, I know it. Those two will be the death of me./ "Come, my sexy highland barbarian pirate, let's go show you off."

Lachlan was waiting at the door to the ballroom, greeting all of his guests. He took one look at Daniel, and grabbed him up and made him stand beside him so he could explain everyone's outfits to the younger man.

Jack frowned at their host, but just shrugged his shoulders, since Daniel was obviously enjoying himself. The Colonel decided to check out the food and drinks tables, and started strolling in that direction. There were a lot of people around in kilts and the feildh mor, as Danny called it, but he noticed how people kept turning to stare at him when he walked by. By the time he saw Iain's handsome face, looking dressed to kill in another outfit like Jack's but with the Murray tartan, he was relieved to see someone he knew who wasn't staring at him like he had two heads.

Iain looked O'Neill over, obviously liking what he saw. "My god, Jack, you look like you walked right out of a history book from the battle of '45, except for the 9 mil. Where did you get the weapons? They're authentic, aren't they?"

"My guide, MacPherson, gave them to me. His mother was a MacNeill."

"Sergeant-Major MacPherson gave you his mother's precious heirlooms?" The handsome Earl's mouth dropped open, reminding Jack of Daniel.

"He call me kinsman, and told me to use them to keep Daniel safe. I guess he wanted to put them to good use."

"He paid you quite a compliment. He must really like you."

"Nah. It's Daniel he likes. It's Daniel that everyone likes."

"Well, I like you both, Jack, especially looking like *that*!"

"Uh, thanks, I think. You look pretty good yourself, kid."

Jack actually started enjoying himself once Iain joined him, though he did miss Daniel somewhat. He caught sight of his archeologist during the first part of the night, being shown something or other by their ubiquitous host. 

/Well, Lachie can't cause even Danny problems surrounded by this many people. Relax, O'Neill. He'll be fine, and he'll thank you for leaving him to his fun later./

There was only one problem to this line of thinking. Colonel Jack O'Neill, from long experience, could never relax in potentially dangerous situations when his archeologist wasn't within his line of sight. For Daniel, almost any situation was a potentially dangerous one, if not to his life, then to his virtue.

Later on in the evening, a very determined tartan-dressed young lady latched onto Jack and Iain, trying to entice the two men outside for a threesome in the garden. After finally extricating himself and his Scottish friend from her painted clutches, Jack couldn't fob off his unease any longer, and decided to go look for Daniel. Of course Iain went along, and to tell you the truth, Jack was getting used to the younger man hanging around. It wouldn't hurt to have a member of Alpha Force guarding your six.

After a thorough perusal of the crowded ballroom, both men determined that Lachlan and Daniel were nowhere to be seen!

* * *

Part 8

DANIEL:

"Daniel, would you like to attend a special treat tonight?"

"More special than all this, Lachlan?"

"Aye, much more. I'm the leader of a group of people who recreate the rituals that were done on the solstices at the stone circle at Lochbuie." Lachlan looked at his wristwatch. "We'll be recreating the summer solstice ritual at midnight."

"You recreate... Jack and I would love to go, Lachlan." 

"Ah, but I dinna include the Colonel in my invitation. I'm afraid we don't care to invite people who would ridicule us."

"Um, I'm afraid that I wouldn't want to go without Jack. He gets, um, worried if I'm gone too long in strange places."

"Yes, I have noticed his protective actions with regards to you." Lachlan poured some wine out into a glass. "Your glass is empty. More wine, Daniel? This is a very special blend."

Daniel took the glass and sipped it, his eyes turning into the crowd to see if he could find Jack and Iain. The sweet taste of the wine was a bit cloying, but he didn't want to hurt Lachlan's feelings. He pretended to drink a great deal of it, actually only taking a few sips, then replacing it on a tray for empties when his host wasn't looking.

"Excellent wine, Lachlan. I don't want to, to..." Daniel's eyes started blurring, and he shook his head to clear his sight. The only thing that did was make him even more lightheaded.

"Um, I don't seem to be feeling so good."

"Why don't you come in here and lie down for a minute, Daniel. The wine is pretty strong." Lachlan guided Daniel to a deserted room and helped the staggering archaeologist to a couch to lie down. Within minutes, he passed out.

JACK

"Let's not panic at the moment, O'Neill."

"That's easy for you to say, Murray! It isn't your lover who might be in the hands of some maniac."

"Colonel, I need you to focus. First thing, let's split up and search the ballroom and the gardens. There is someone I want to find, as well."

"Who?"

"Sergeant-Major MacPherson. You know, Andrew, your guide. He knows this island like the back of his hand. Also, he's just recently retired from being on the local constabulary, so he has the contacts we need if we need the police to intervene. He was a member of Alpha Force before he retired four years ago to become the constable here. Then he decided to retire for good, and became a guide for tourists part time.

"Andrew was Special Forces? It's funny, but somehow I could tell. He really likes Daniel. I'll look for him too."

"Good. We'll meet back up over there, at the ballroom stairs out to the garden."

Jack looked to where Iain pointed. "No, it's too exposed. Over next to it is that little grotto with the plants, see it? We'll meet in there. You take the gardens and the balcony areas, I'll do down here. We'll meet up there in, um, fifteen minutes."

Iain nodded, relieved that Jack had moved into Colonel O'Neill mode. From what his sources had told him, the older man had twice the experience in special ops as Iain, and the younger man knew it. "Yes, Sir." He didn't salute, quite, but Jack nodded at the obvious respect he was being shown.

Daniel

When Daniel woke up, he was conscious of being very cold, and of having a really bad headache. He was also naked and lying on something cold, hard, and rough on the skin of his buttocks and back. The cold drizzle and wind raised goose bumps on his skin, but when he moved to sit up, he found that he'd been tied down. Surrounding him were several people dressed in white sheets.

/The Klu Klux Klan? In the Hebrides?/ 

He didn't have his glasses on, but when one of the figures leaned forward, Daniel saw that it wasn't sheets they were wearing, but thick cotton robes with hoods.

"Ah, I see you are awake, Doctor Jackson. Naughty you, you didn't drink all of the wine, did you?"

"Whatzat???" The linguist cleared his throat and tried again. "Lachlan?"

"Yes. Tonight, though, you can address me as Honored Druid."

"Untie me?"

"I'm afraid I can't do that. For you see, Dr. Jackson, you are going to be our sacrifice for the summer solstice ritual."

Daniel's head cleared extremely fast as he heard the word 'sacrifice'. "Jack will find me, Lachlan. He'll kill you, if he sees me like this. The joke's not funny. Let me go."

"The Colonel can't rescue you if he has no idea where you are, you know. Now, I must begin the ritual. We'll have the official bloodletting about in the middle of it." The Laird's cold informational tone chilled Daniel even more than the weather.

"You won't get away with this!" Daniel tried to push at the ropes that bound him, but whoever had tied them knew what they were doing.

Lachlan laughed. "On the contrary, my dear Daniel. I have gotten away with it for many years now, and will continue getting away with it for many years to come."

The crazy man stepped back among his followers, raised his white-clad arms, and started chanting in Gaelic. Daniel's mind was way too foggy to translate, so he just kept fiddling at the ropes instead. He had heard the seriousness in the Scot's voice, and reluctantly came to the realization that Lachlan was serious. He was really going to try to kill Daniel tonight.

/Jack, please help!/ He silently prayed, trying to think through the fog the drink had given his brain.

Jack

McPherson eyed the two men angrily as they explained the situation. Iain asked if he had any clue where Daniel might have been taken, but the old codger had a word or two of his own to impart.

"Aye yer a fine pair an nae mistake. Twa big burly laddies and still ye couldna keep him safe! Whit were ye thinking o' MacNeill, letting him oot yer sight?"

Jack was surprised to find that he was actually beginning to understand their guide. He blushed crimson at the reprimand.

"Hey - I'm not his keeper. He's a grown man, you know."

"Aye but he has the innocence o' a bairn as weel ye ken. So ye have nae idea where the Laird had taken him?"

Both men shook their heads desperately, hoping that the canny local would come up with something. They also were both surprised that Andrew had automatically assumed it was Lachlan who had grabbed Daniel. But they were not disappointed. MacPherson threw open the door to the Landrover and bid them enter.

"Tis the solstice. If he's nae at Lochbuie, then I'm nae a MacPherson."

Jack's mouth hung open in surprise. /Why the hell hadn't he thought of that?/ "The stone circle?"

Iain leapt into the car, hauling Jack in beside him.

"Step on it Mac - I think Lachie has found another tourist to sacrifice!"

Daniel

Daniel shivered as the huge blade hovered above his head. Lachlan's voice had reached a crescendo that echoed from the stones. The wind had picked up considerably and now there was a distant boom of thunder accenting his words. Daniel was so cold now that his mind was wandering. He had tested the tensile strength of the ropes around his ankles and wrists to their limit, found them adequate for their purpose and moved on to trying to translate the words. 

The archeologist closed his eyes tight, as much to protect them from the spattering rain as to shut out the sadistic faces gathering round. He felt the edge of the knife press against his throat and took a deep breath. This was it. He was about to die, and it wasn't on an alien world with a Goa'uld holding the knife. It was on Earth, with just a very evil, very crazy man. His eyes snapped open and he stared up into the face of his murderer.

"Don't do this." His voice managed to stay calm despite the gravity of the situation. Even now, as he felt the first trickle of blood running down his neck when the blade bit into his skin, he refused to give in. "I promise you WILL regret it." A memory of Jack flew into his head. Jack chained to a wall, cursing and spitting at Ba'al torturing him. Daniel smiled weakly up at the Laird. Oh boy was he in for trouble when Jack got here, and he never once doubted that Jack *would* get here soon.

Then all hell broke loose! 

What he at first thought was the crack of thunder, eventually coalesced in his foggy brain as a gunshot. Cracking open his eyes, he strained to see what was going on. All around him, the Druids were bolting in terror as the resounding echo of a handgun split the night over and over again. Lachlan had fallen, the knife still clutched in his hand. From his position, Daniel could only see a bit of the bloodstained white robe beside the alter, and not the Laird himself. 

Then he caught sight of a vision he would remember for the rest of his life. A kilted Jack O'Neill leapt onto a fallen monolith and tossed his now empty handgun away. Reaching behind him, he drew the 5 foot long Claymore from its scabbard and swung it double-handed over his head. The war cry he let out turned Daniel's insides to liquid as he struggled against the bonds, trying to keep Jack in his sights as the Colonel, kilt swinging wildly, hacked his way through the crowd.

Behind him, Iain cut a swathe through the terrified ritualists. Within moments, they had all 8 of the men cowering at their feet, MacPherson tying their hands and pulling back their bloodstained hoods to reveal their identities. Jack's chest was heaving as though each breath was lancing pain through his tortured lungs, so cold was the air. Daniel couldn't drag his eyes from his lover, standing amidst the carnage, his once pristine shirt splattered with blood which Daniel hoped was not his own. He still had the Claymore in a death grip, eyes wild with fear when he finally let himself look at Danny. 

Jack

When they had first caught sight of the altar, Jack had seen the blood pouring down his lover's shoulder and throat and thought they were too late. He had lost control then, pulling out his sidearm and taking Lachie out with one clean shot between the eyes. Two of the other ritualists were seriously wounded before the chaos made aiming impossible, so he had fired randomly until his bullets were spent, then, pulling the sword of his ancestors, the Colonel had dived into the fray. Iain was shouting something about taking them alive, but Jack had intended to show no mercy to the bastards that had killed his Danny!

Now that the adrenaline rush was abating and his brain had begun to clear his tunnel vision, he could see that Daniel was quite alive, if close to freezing, and he forced his feet to carry him to the alter. Daniel's huge blue eyes never left his face and for a moment he forgot to breathe. Daniel was alive. Daniel was ALIVE! 

He reached into the sheath at his calf and drew out the razor sharp black blade, slicing through the bonds at his lover's wrists with one deft flick. Daniel rubbed the raw flesh as Jack dealt with the ankles. MacPherson appeared with his ever-faithful tartan blanket, wrapping it quickly around the shivering archaeologist. Then he bent and checked the crumpled form lying beside the alter for a pulse.

"Aye he's deed alright." The old guide announced with satisfaction, "Good shot, MacNeill!" Andrew turned to speak to the approaching Earl. Iain had been checking on the other casualties and making sure that the ritualists left alive were going nowhere. He glared angrily at Jack.

"You fucking asshole O'Neill! We had a plan remember?"

Jack continued to stare at Daniel, taking in the blood still trickling from the cut on his neck and the paleness of his night-chilled skin.

Iain grabbed Jack's shoulder to get his attention. "O'Neill - who the fuck did you think you were - William Wallace?"

Jack whirled and thumped Iain hard with the palms of both hands.

"No, I'm a Colonel in the United States Air Force who took out a murderer, Murray. Now back off, or you'll be next!"

"Uh, Jack, Iain..."

Iain recovered quickly and pushed back, ignoring Daniel.

"You are the most arrogant..." //push// "self centered..." //push// "Big headed..."

Jack's arm came up to block the third shove and both men collided, chests heaving, eyes blazing. Daniel recognized that they were both still hyped after the fight but didn't have the energy to try and stop them. Iain grabbed his Claymore and stepped back, a challenge in his eyes that no one could mistake.

"That's it - Someone has got to give you a lesson in humility! I'm through playing games with you O'Neill."

Jack lifted his own sword and stood, legs apart, arms braced, a cold glitter in his dark eyes.

"Bring it on."

Daniel let MacPherson help him up and staggered towards the two angry men and tried again to get through to them.

"Jack, Iain, please don't do this." Daniel's soft voice could barely be heard above the wind. 

"Daniel, keep back. This is something we need to do."

"Well, if you're doing it to impress me, I must say, it's not working."

Jack never took his eyes off his opponent. Both men stood facing each other, claymores in their hands, ready to go.

Iain saluted Jack with his sword, a movement which Jack copied. 

"Jack, do you even know how to use a sword?" Daniel asked desperately.

"I've had some practice, yes." Daniel glanced over at the assortment of bruises and deep cuts being sported by the surviving ritualists and sighed. /He must know something, to have done that much damage./ 

"I guess I can't talk you out of this, can I?"

"No. So stop trying, and stay back."

Daniel shrugged, angry as hell at both men, but did step back. Once thing he didn't want to do is be caught up by accident in a sword fight. He felt shitty enough as it was.

With a powerful two-handed swing, Iain's blade swept up and downward to the place that Jack's head was attached to his body. His intent was to end this duel quickly by knocking the Colonel senseless. It was a good plan. Except for one problem.

Jack wasn't there anymore. He had jumped to the side upon seeing his opponent's chest muscles prepare for the strike.

The five foot long blade impaled the dirt as it came down from the upswing. The force of the jolt as it hit could be seen in the ripples of strain along the younger man's shoulders and arms.

Jack saw his chance, and moved in while Iain was recovering. His sword swung in under the other's arm and slapped his underarm and ribs. Jack pivoted, pulled his sword back, and again slapped Iain on the butt with the flat of the blade in a whipping motion. 

In response to the younger man's cussing, Jack grinned. "You're lucky your ass stopped me from hitting anything vital, Murray."

Iain was obviously more practiced at this type of fighting than Jack, and he didn't let the taunts or the hits make him lose his head. He just grinned back at the Colonel, swung the sword as though he was going to trip Jack, then switched as Jack countered and clopped him on the head with the flat of his blade.

Jack was knocked unconscious from the force of the blow, and dropped like a stone to the ground. Daniel, adrenalin giving him strength, rushed over to his lover, checked to see that he was already starting to wake up, then turned on Iain in a fury.

"You fucking bastard, you could have killed him by aiming towards his head!" Totally outraged, the gentle archaeologist threw back his fist and socked Iain with all his strength! Now it was Iain's turn to go out like a light. Daniel had a mean right hook. After all, he'd been trained by the best. 

The sudden burst of activity left Daniel feeling a little light-headed what with the blood loss and he staggered back to Jack's side. Jack was staring up at his lover blearily.

"Uh, Danny?"

The archaeologist dropped down to his side. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, though I got a headache. Just knocked me loopy for a few minutes."

Jack sat up, finally noticing the prostrate Earl. "What happened to Murray?"

"Um, I thought he had really hurt you, Jack, and I ...I'm afraid that I decked him."

"Shit Danny - we were just playing - getting rid of some of the adrenaline overflow. I'd better see that he's okay."

"He's fine. I didn't hit him that hard." 

Jack let Daniel help him up. "Now, Jack O'Neill, are you through doing your macho shit head alpha moose routine?"

The Colonel's brown eyes crinkled in humor. "Alpha moose routine? Yeah, I guess I'm through playing. I'm too old for this sword fighting stuff. I'll stick to p-90's from now on."

Iain was starting to come out of his knock-out, so Daniel moved rather guiltily over to see if he was okay.

Iain accepted Daniel's outstretched hand and was pulled to his feet. He rubbed absently at his jaw whilst regarding Daniel with renewed respect. MacPherson materialized by Daniel's side and sighed in exasperation.

"Well if you laddies are all finished kicking the shite oota each other, we have a few men over there in need o'medical attention. I've called the Mountain Rescue and they're after sendin' a helicopter."

Iain clapped the old man on the shoulder and drew him towards the casualties. He was rather impressed by the amount of damage Jack had managed to inflict, not that he would tell O'Neill that, of course. Jack reached out and pulled Daniel into his arms. The younger man was not surprised to find that his lover was trembling, and he knew it was from fear for Daniel.

"I'm okay Jack. Its just a scratch."

"Another couple of minutes Daniel and..."

"Hey - you arrived in time. My hero, as always."

Jack pulled back and gazed into Daniels dancing eyes. He allowed a small smile to form at the corner of his mouth and pulled him to him tightly.

"You don't expect me to sweep you off your feet and carry you off into the heather do you?" O'Neill asked his lover dubiously. "Tempting as that thought is, I'm not sure my knees and arms could handle the load after that sword fight."

Daniel twisted in his arms and suddenly Jack was swept off his feet and held in a pair of suddenly much stronger arms.

"No Jack, but then I'm not the one wearing the skirt!"

"No, you're naked, Daniel. Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but you're starting to turn a little blue around the edges. Though I'll have to admit that the important pieces are standing at attention quite impressively."

"Shut up, O'Neill, or I will take you into the heather and do it for you."

"Much as I'd love that, kid, you need to set me down now, 'cause from your shaking, I'm afraid if you don't, you'll drop me. And my poor knees wouldn't like that."

"I'm shshshshaking cos I'm ccccold!" Disagreed Daniel as he let Jack's legs drop. Jack smiled indulgently and hugged him close wrapping him in the blanket again,

"Sure you are. Here, let's get you warmed up."

Their quiet moment was interrupted by the noise of an approaching helicopter, and at last Jack began to relax, finally things were under control again and his Danny was safe. He looked questioningly into his lover's suddenly intense-looking eyes and smiled. "What?"

"I love you, Jack."

"Rightbackatcha, Daniel!"

The End.


End file.
